A Star's Descent: Book Two: Star Fall
By evolution-500
Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.
WARNING: This story contains violence, course language, mature and disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Prologue: Alpha Team
July 24th, 1998
Raccoon City, Colorado - Two hours earlier...
There were a lot of things that Chris Redfield hated.
For one, he hated the weather - even though it had rained last night, the heat was ungodly, causing him to sweat by the bucket loads, soaking the white sleeveless tank top and khaki pants he had on. It was so hot that he had to put his favorite brown leather jacket onto the passenger seat beside him as he drove to work in his old crappy white Cavalier.
But it wasn't the heat that worried him. It was the fact that he was late that got to him, and he absolutely hated being late. Every time he was late meant either some snide remark from that snotty prick Irons, or, at the worst, a reprimand from his commanding officer, Captain Wesker. Chris hated being scolded at like some damn two year-old late for school, but if there was one thing that he really, REALLY hated, it was traffic, which was why he was late in the first place.
Taking a left on Flower Street, Chris saw the looming grey form of the Racoon City Police Department ahead. Why the hell would anyone want to make an art museum into a police station was beyond him, but he had heard rumors of there being secret passages somewhere, although he was damned if he knew where they were. If he had known, he could have avoided this whole hassle.
'Too bad it's nothing more than a rumor,' Chris thought sourly as he swept a hand through his brown hair.
Driving up to the Parking Garage at the back of the Police Station, stopping just in front of the gate beside the card detector, he reached into his pocket, then froze, his heart sinking.
"Oh fuck."
Chris felt around his pockets, then checked the side compartments of his Cavalier, his backseat, his glove compartment, the car seats, his jacket pockets, the car floor, then rechecked again.
"Where is it?! For Christ's sakes, where is it?!" he swore. Someone honked behind him.
"Move!" the guy called.
"Just give me a sec!" Chris called back as he searched. He checked, rechecked, then checked a third time.
"Move the fuck out of the way!" the man called in irritation.
This can't be happening. This must be a dream.
Sitting back into the driver's seat, Chris stared ahead, then slammed his forehead into the steering wheel.
'I forgot the Parking Garage keycard,' he thought, wincing at his bad luck.
The man honked behind him again, and again, throwing a slew of expletives.
'I hate my life.'
Once he finally found a parking space somewhere on Ennerdale Street, Chris approached the front entrance to the Precinct, looking up at the concrete archway with the letters RPD at the top.
Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself for what was to follow.
Pushing the gates open, he stepped through, making his way toward the grey column-lined entrance of the building. Leaning casually against a wall having a cigarette was Kevin Ryman. Dressed in a black RPD uniform with a five o'clock shadow, his hair was long and parted in the center, his bangs swept over his ears.
"Good to see you, Redfield," Ryman greeted amiably.
"Good to see you too, Kev," Chris replied, then frowned. "Are you drunk?"
Ryman shrugged.
"It's one of those days," he answered.
"You really need to lay off the booze," Chris warned.
"And you really need to get a better clock," Ryman remarked.
The S.T.A.R.S. Point Man sighed. Everyone's always on his case about that.
"Is the Captain here?"
Ryman looked at him.
"Chris," he said seriously, "the guy's the freaking Terminator - he's always here."
Chris frowned. He was afraid of that. Part of him had hoped that the Captain himself would be late.
"Damn," he muttered. "Well, I better get going. Nice seeing you, Kev."
"Take care."
When Chris finally arrived at the S.T.A.R.S. office on the third floor, he carefully and quietly opened the door and looked inside.
A large rectangular room with four split desks joined together in the middle with a sealed off weapons locker to the far left. At the opposite of the room, nestled into the far corner beside a shelf was another desk with several unopened boxes, various devices and communication equipment.
Looking to the desk ahead, Chris saw his partner Jill Valentine as she worked, reading some file. A fit woman of twenty-four, Jill was half-French, half-Japanese, a stunning looker that stood at five foot five and weighed a hundred and eleven pounds with dark brown hair done in a medium bob cut. Dressed in a blue S.T.A.R.S. uniform with thick shoulder pads, a black belt with a fanny pack and laced up black boots, Jill was Rear Security and S.T.A.R.S.' B&E (breaking and entering) specialist.
In the desk further behind her, close to the weapons locker, sat Barry Burton. Thirty-eight years old, Barry was a heavy set bear of a man that stood at six one and weighed a hundred and ninety-seven pounds. Caucasian with short light brown hair, a widow's peak, an aquiline nose and a thick beard, Barry was S.T.A.R.S.' Backup Man and Weapons' Supplier, not to mention one of Chris' oldest friends from the Air Force. Seeing the two at their desks, Chris looked around. He didn't see anyone else, but it was the office door immediately to his left that worried him.
Closing the door as quietly as possible behind him, Chris tiptoed to his desk, glancing around nervously. Jill sighed.
"The Captain's not in, Chris," she replied.
He relaxed.
"Thank god," The S.T.A.R.S. Point Man sighed as he hung up his leather jacket on the coatrack near his desk. "Where is he?"
"He's been in a meeting with Chief Irons all day," Barry said as he cleaned his favorite 44 Magnum.
"You really need to get a new alarm clock," Jill said dryly.
"It's not my fault," Chris retorted. "Bloody traffic wouldn't let up!"
"Uh huh," the Alpha woman smirked knowingly.
He looked around.
"Where are Joseph and Brad?" Chris asked.
"They're just getting some coffee," Barry answered.
"Hm," the Point Man grunted. "What are you reading, Jill?"
"Reports from the Cannibal cases," she replied, shaking her head as she massaged her eyes.
Chris frowned. For two months, there have been a slew of cannibal murders and animal attacks on hikers and residents living near Raccoon Forest. The RPD suspected that it was the work of cultists, but progress has been slow, and because of that, the Public was getting increasingly nervous, which was why Bravo Team was dispatched last night.
Jill frowned. "None of this makes any sense."
"What do you make of it?" Chris asked.
Her frowned deepened.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I wish the damn autopsy reports were a bit more thorough."
Chris looked over his shoulder. "Any thoughts on the subject, Barry?"
Barry shrugged.
"Probably narcotics," he suggested. "Maybe someone spiked people's drinks with bathsalts or something."
"If the attackers were teenagers or college students, I could buy into that," Jill said, "but the reports indicate a much wider range. Men, women, children. Seniors. People with no reported history of violence or substance abuse. I don't get it."
"Neither do I," Chris looked at his partner in concern. "Anything from Bravo Team yet?"
Jill shook her head.
"No, we haven't heard a thing from them. Not since last night," She replied, her frown deepening even further. "I hope they're okay."
Chris nodded in agreement.
"You and me both," he said quietly. He glanced curiously to the desk at the other end of the room with all the unopened packages. "Is that the new kid's stuff?"
Jill shrugged. "I think so. Word is that she's some kind of child genius."
"Really? Child genius, eh?" Chris raised a brow. "Any military experience?"
"None whatsoever, from what I hear. Apparently she's eighteen and had just graduated from university."
Chris frowned. "Jesus, eighteen? Boy do I feel old. Why would Captain Wesker take someone like that onto the team?"
"Publicity stunt, perhaps?" Jill suggested. "Maybe he wants to make her the team mascot?"
Looking to Barry, he studied the man's face as he cleaned his handgun.
"How about you, Barry?" he asked. "Any thoughts?"
Barry grunted.
"Just so long she isn't like the last one, I don't care," he answered gruffly.
Chris nodded. "There's a woman downstairs waiting in Reception on one of the benches. I think she's the rookie's mother."
Jill sighed. "God, she's still here?"
"Yeah. She's worried sick."
"I can imagine," Barry said as he shook his head. "If my daughter were out there and I haven't heard her, I'd be doing the same thing."
Although Chris knew that was the truth, he suspected that the more likely scenario in Barry's case would be that he would arm himself to the teeth and search the entire damn mountain itself if necessary. A dedicated family man with a wife and two daughters, Barry was absolutely fearless. The only thing that scared him, Chris knew, was never seeing them again, and although the Alpha Point Man himself wasn't married, he understood those feelings all too well with his little sister Claire.
Settling into his chair beside Jill's, he sighed.
"I told her to go home, but she's pretty insistent on staying," Chris said sadly. "I feel really bad for her."
His partner nodded sympathetically.
Hearing the door open, the trio turned to see Brad "Chickenheart" Vickers as he entered. Hailing from Delucia, Colorado, a dinky little town a few miles from Raccoon, he was five nine, weighing no more than a hundred and thirty-nine pounds. Both the RPD recruiter and Alpha Team's pilot, Vickers was a dorky-looking fellow with short brown hair, a yellow vest, green camouflage pants, black boots and a white shirt. While he was certainly a good pilot, he did not have any combat experience, and because of that detail he tended to get nervous and would flee at the first sign of danger, thus earning him the nickname "Chickenheart", much to Vickers' chagrin.
"Hey Brad," Chris greeted.
"Hey Chris," the pilot nodded as he went to the communications equipment, sitting down into a chair as he put on some headphones.
"How'd the date go?"
Vickers frowned.
"Lousy," he answered.
"Ah hell," Chris said. "Well, don't worry about it, Brad. Plenty of fish in the sea."
Shortly after he said that, Joseph Frost entered the room, carrying a cardboard box under one arm and reading a magazine with the other, chuckling to himself.
Alpha Team's Omni Man, a term used to describe someone in charge of vehicle and weapon maintenance, Frost was a short blonde man of five ten, weighing a hundred and fifty-nine pounds. Dressed in a blue vest with a white shirt, green camouflage pants, black combat boots, fingerless gloves and a red bandana tied around his head, Frost was the resident jokester, constantly wearing a bright sunny smile.
"Hey Joseph," Chris nodded.
"Hey Chris."
"What are you reading?"
Joseph laughed.
"Raccoon Monthly, June Issue," he answered. "There's a really funny article in here about Irons - hilarious stuff!"
Clearing his throat, he started to read in an overly serious tone.
"'Attention All Raccoon City Heroes!
Who's the most feared, yet respected man in town? The answer should be obvious to any resident of our fair city.
That's right! It's police chief Brian Irons: the man that scares the bejeezus out of criminals everywhere and stern father that loves every last one of us sinful citizens.
Chief Irons is known for his great charity work, including big contributions to the orphanage, support for abused women, art preservation, animal conservation - let us know if we've missed anything! Just when does our great hero sleep!? When asked, "The city is my extended family. I'm just doing what I'd do for my family," Chief Irons said with a soft smile.'"
Chris shook his head.
"Jesus, someone actually wrote that?" he said in disbelief.
"Yup," the Omni Man nodded. "All it's missing is a picture of Irons dangling from a helicopter with an uzi."
"Forget helicopter, it makes it sound like the guy is Superman or something!" Barry said. "Jesus, 'sinful citizens'? I can't believe they used that phrase."
"You and me both, Barry," Chris nodded in agreement.
Joseph tucked the magazine under his arm.
"So Chris," he grinned, "I see you're late as usual."
The Alpha Point Man huffed. "What makes you so sure?"
"I saw you trying to get in the Parking Garage," Frost chuckled. "You forgot your keycard again, haven't you?"
"No I haven't!" he said defensively.
Jill, Barry and Vickers turned around, giving him knowing looks.
"Chris?" the former deadpanned.
The Alpha Point Man was quiet for several seconds.
"...Okay I had," he conceded, muttering under his breath.
The Alphas chuckled amongst themselves while he grumbled.
"What do you have there?" Jill asked as she pointed to the box.
"I found this in Jo-Jo's locker downstairs in the West Office," Joseph answered. "The locker door was wide open."
"Joseph," Barry said warningly.
"I'm going to put it back!" the Omni Man retorted as he put it on his desk, opening it up. He stared, blinking for several seconds. "Guys...check this out."
The Alphas gathered around the box, staring inside, all stone quiet.
Jill blinked.
"Is that...?" she trailed off.
Frost's grin grew even larger as he pulled out a massive dildo.
"Well, well, well!" he laughed. "I wonder what Jo-Jo's been up to!"
He started to measure it against his forearm.
"Jesus, he really was armed and dangerous! I think you can kill an elk with this thing!"
He looked over at Barry. "What do you think, Barry?"
"I don't care," the big man said gruffly.
"Aw, what's the matter, Big Bear?" Joseph asked. "Worried you're not packing equipment this size?"
Barry raised a brow. "Joseph, I'm in the middle of cleaning a 44 Magnum. Is it wise to piss me off when I'm holding this thing?"
The Omni Man considered it.
"...Good point," he conceded, then turned the sex toy in Chris' direction, pointing it at him.
Chris frowned. "Put it away, Joseph."
Joseph uttered a low, devious laugh as he slowly approached the Alpha Point Man, waving it around in the air in front of him.
"Joseph..." Chris said warningly.
The Alpha moved closer, his laughs never ceasing.
"Jo- No!" Chris ducked out of the way laughing as he sought to escape his colleague. "You son of a bitch!"
Pulling another toy from the box to protect himself, he got into a stance with his weapon. This means war.
Jill watched with a flat expression as a weird re-enactment of"Star Wars" occurred in the S.T.A.R.S. office. Joseph spun his weapon confidently as he and Chris circled each other, the two making light sabre noises with their mouths.
"The force is strong with you," the latter said as he imitated Darth Vader.
Shaking her head, Jill looked down to the report, sighing wearily.
"Men," she muttered.
"What is going on here?"
At the sound of Captain Wesker's deep baritone voice, everyone leapt up to attention as he entered the room. Six feet tall, clean-shaven, impeccably dressed in his black S.T.A.R.S. uniform with peroxide blonde hair and black reflective sunglasses concealing his eyes, Wesker was a hundred and eighty-six pounds of lean muscle, despite being the same age as Barry.
Turning to both Chris and Joseph, he eyed both men, his face unreadable.
"What are you hiding behind you?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm and neutral.
"Uhh nothing!" Chris said nervously.
Jill winced. Bad move, Chris.
If there was one thing she knew about Captain Wesker with any certainty, it was that he had a nose for bullshit - he had the uncanny ability to instantly know when someone was lying to him. Jill herself had found that out the hard way when she first interviewed for S.T.A.R.S.; in her file, she listed herself as being a former Delta Force soldier, which he described as TFN or "Total Fucking Nonsense" based on the fact that they didn't allow for female combatants, a fact that he knew perfectly well, having been a commissioned engineering officer within the Army.
The Alpha Captain coolly studied him and Frost, his gaze never wavering for a moment. He regarded both with the same patience a schoolmaster would give naughty children.
"By nothing you mean..." he said expectantly.
Chris sweated furiously, then relented and held out the massive sex toy that he was hiding behind his back. Barry snorted, causing Wesker to turn in his direction, silencing the big man instantly. Turning back to Redfield, he regarded the object in his hand distastefully.
"Was this the typical sort of thing you did back in the Air Force?" The Alpha Captain queried.
"No sir," Chris answered, gulping as he became aware of how oppressive the very air has become, so much so that he felt like it were suffocating him.
"Then why are you two playing around for?" Wesker said neutrally, not once raising his voice, making them flinch regardless. "This isn't a playground - this is where adults come to work. Or am I wrong in assuming you are both grown men?"
The Alphas swallowed.
"...We're sorry, sir," Chris said nervously.
"You're sorry," he repeated. "Has it ever occurred to either one of you that someone might have used these?"
Frost paled. There came a knock at the door.
"Come in," Wesker said, his eyes remaining on Chris.
The door opened, revealing an officer with a mustache. As soon as Wesker's eyes averted away from him, Chris let out a deep breath of relief, the air returning back to his lungs.
"What do you want?" Wesker demanded.
"Sorry to bother you, Captain," the officer nodded, "...but I was told that Frost had taken a box up here with him. It contains bugged items that the Vice Squad are using for a sting operation."
Wesker looked to the giant phallus in Chris' hands, then looked back to the officer.
"Show me," he ordered.
Taking one of the sex toys from the box, the officer unscrewed the bottom, pulling out a miniature microphone in demonstration.
"Huh," Frost grunted, "a dick that listens. Something new everyday."
Chris laughed, earning a glare from Wesker. Looking back to the item, the latter raised a brow.
"...Interesting equipment," The Alpha Captain commented, causing Jill and a few others to quietly chuckle. "Who's in charge?"
"Lieutenant Hunter, sir." he said.
Wesker gestured to Chris and Frost. "Put them away."
The two men nodded as they complied.
"I'll take that." Wesker said, grabbing the box.
"But sir-"
"I'm just taking it to my office," Wesker cut him off. "I want to call Lieutenant Hunter to confirm."
"Very well, sir."
The Alpha Captain turned back to Chris and Joseph, looking up and down at the former.
"You're out of uniform, Redfield," he reminded.
"I'm just heading to my locker now, Captain," Chris nodded.
"Get to it quickly - there's something urgent I need to announce."
Chris gave a half nod and exited the room.
As Wesker turned his attention to Joseph, Jill felt the room temperature suddenly plummet, causing her to shiver as the sunglasses glared at the Omni Man. "As for you, Frost, I want a word with you in my office. Now."
Jill watched as Joseph's color faded, his smile gone. Wesker then turned to the rest of the Alphas. "The rest of you get back to work."
"Yes sir," they all said collectively.
Joseph entered Wesker's office, giving Jill and Chris a look of dread as he closed the door behind them. Barry and Jill looked at each other, then quietly laughed.
"Did you see the look he made when Chris showed him that thing?" the latter wheezed.
"Oh Christ!" the former said as he wiped his eyes. "That was something!"
Jill sighed. "I love this job."
Ten minutes later, Jill saw Chris return, now dressed in his S.T.A.R.S. uniform.
Casting her eyes up and down his figure appraisingly, she let her gaze wander. At twenty-five years old, Redfield was a hunk, one of the most good-looking guys in the Department. Average in height, with short brown hair done in a crew cut, the Alpha's shirt and pants were grey, with a green tactical combat vest protectively wrapped around his torso, kneepads adorning his legs, and a fanny pack tied around his waist. With his black combat boots and good looks, Chris looked like an action figure brought to life, and in a lot of ways, to Jill anyway, he was. A former pilot, Redfield had joined the Air Force when he was seventeen to provide for his younger sister Claire and the rest of his family, serving in 1990 onward before being dishonorably discharged for insubordination in 1995. Strong-willed and full of conviction, he was an exemplary combatant with a good service record. If it wasn't for his friendship with Barry and the latter's recommendation to Wesker, he probably wouldn't have been accepted into S.T.A.R.S.
'Funny how things are never what we expect,' the B&E specialist thought as she reflected on her own upbringing and acceptance into the unit, as it was in total contrast to Redfield's.
The daughter of Dick Valentine, an infamous thief, Jill had lived a life of crime, hotwiring cars and stealing various monies and valuables with her father. It was only when she was in her teens, after her father was caught and sent to prison, that she was forced to turn her life around. When she interviewed Wesker, she had been so certain that he would have rejected her due to her criminal background if he found out about it, only to find, much to her surprise, that the Alpha Captain wanted her to join because of it!
And now, here she was!
Wesker stepped out from his office, holding the box toward the officer.
"Lieutenant Hunter has confirmed what you said," he said. "Go ahead."
The officer nodded. "Thank you, Captain."
As the door closed behind the departing officer as he left, Wesker turned to face the other S.T.A.R.S. members.
"Alright, everyone, eyes up here," he ordered, drawing their attention. "As you are all aware, I've been dealing with Irons and bureaucratic bullshit for the entire day."
Jill watched him intently.
"What's the word, Captain?" she asked.
He pushed up the sunglasses up to the bridge of his nose. "We're going in to get Bravo."
"Hell yeah!" Joseph palmed his fist. "Fucking finally!"
"Bloody Irons," Chris muttered. "You'd think he would have sent us sooner."
Wesker nodded in agreement. "He is a loathsome man, that is for certain, but it's important to follow protocol, Redfield. It's a slow process, but tensions are high right now. It's not just the Mayor's Office we have to worry about, but the Media as well. Everything we do will be under intense scrutiny, so I want everyone at their best. I don't want any fuckups. Vickers, get the helicopter ready."
"Yes sir," the pilot nodded.
"Burton, get to the Armory and load up some supplies and medkits."
"Yes Captain," Barry nodded.
"Everyone else pack up your gear and get ready. We're leaving."
THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP
Chris sat still in the Bell UH1 Iroquois, listening to the drone of the propeller as he looked out the window. Normally the Point Man wouldn't be so bothered by the sound, but hearing it now made him anxious.
His team had flown over Raccoon Forest on a number of occasions throughout the years, usually to track down lost hikers or civilians caught in a snowstorm, stuck on a mountain somewhere or whatever, so he had no reason to feel so...apprehensive.
And yet...the feeling was there.
Staring into the vast gulf of woodland down below, Chris could only see shadows, and the more he stared into them, the more active and wild his imagination became. His mind vividly played out a number of scenarios of what he and his team were likely to find.
On the one hand, the optimist within him felt sure that all Alpha Team was going to find was Bravo Team's helicopter, the worst case scenario being that its crew were all tired, bored and irritated for having to wait for so damn long. They exchange words, pick up, then leave.
The cynic in Chris, however, pushed that part off a cliff, and with that, his thoughts turned dark as he considered the possibilities.
Staring out the window, he repressed the urge to shiver as he took in the landscape.
The forest was deceptively still.
Lifeless, even.
And yet, Chris knew better than to trust its appearance.
There was a strong undercurrent of possibility emanating from those woods. How he knew, Chris wasn't too sure, but he could practically...feel it, deep in his bones.
His team were heading into enemy territory blind, and the constant thumping of the propeller was getting to him.
To Redfield, it sounded like a gigantic war drum calling for violence, blood and sacrifice, as if trying to summon a long-forgotten god of war to come claim his due, stirring primal feelings deep within the Alpha Point Man as he shifted nervously in his seat.
From the way a lot of the others acted, they shared similar sentiments, although they did their best not to show their anxiety.
Nobody knew what to expect find out in the woods. Anything could happen at a moment's notice, and that uncertainty hung over Alpha Team. The coolest one of the bunch was Wesker, his eyes hidden behind those damn sunglasses as he sat opposite of the Point Man.
'Guy has one hell of a poker face,' Chris thought.
"Nervous, Redfield?" he asked over the headset.
Chris half-shrugged. "A little."
Wesker leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder, catching Chris by surprise as he gave him a quiet nod of assurance. Chris smiled and nodded back in thanks.
The Alphas waited as the propeller droned on. Frost frowned.
"Fuck this quiet shit, I'm putting on some music," he muttered as he grabbed his boom box.
Turning it on, he pressed the play button, then leaned back as Tryanglz's "Burning to the Third Degree" played over the speakers, synthesizers mixing with the thumping of the propeller.
"'No control,
walk right into coals to feel the pain.
I'm lost in you.'"
Barry nervously clutched his Colt Anaconda as Joseph loaded in the shells for his shotgun, a customized Mossberg 590.
"'Oh,
now you strike the match and light the flame.
My hearts a blaze,
I feel the heat of your desire,
I just can't face the fire.
'You've got me burnin'
You've got me burnin'
You've got me burnin' in the third degree!
'You've got me burnin'
You've got me burnin'
You've got me burnin' in the third degree!'"
Chris fidgeted nervously.
"We're coming up on the coordinates of Bravo's last transmission, Captain," Vickers said on the head set. "ETA Five minutes.'"
"Roger that," Wesker replied as he nodded to Jill and Chris. The two checked their Samurai Edge handguns. The Alpha Point Man felt his heart hammer in his ears.
"Just a heads up, guys - I see a lot of smoke coming up from part of the mountain. It looks like there had been a fire."
"Is it still burning?" Wesker queried.
"Negative," Vickers answered. "It looks clear."
The Alpha Captain nodded.
"Good," he replied. "At least we don't have to worry about a potential forest fire."
"We should contact fire and emergency services just in case," Chris added.
Wesker nodded in agreement. "Definitely."
Dark clouds loomed over the Huey as it travelled over some swaying pines, the orange hue of the setting sun dully coloring them.
'Hypnotize,
see the flicker gleaming in your eyes.
It catches me.
Oh,
I take it and you'll never let me go,
I'm your prisoner.
I feel the heat of your desire,
I just can't face the fire.
You've got me burnin'!
You've got me burnin'!
You've got me burnin' in the third degree!'"
"I see a clearing. Landing now."
"Roger," Wesker replied.
"'You've got me burnin'!
You've got me burnin'!
You've got me burnin' in the third degree!''
"Frost turn that shit off!" Wesker ordered.
"Yes Captain."
As the Omni Man turned off the radio, Chris felt a churn in his stomach as he heard the final set of lyrics.
"'Can't stop my body's aching,
give us what this all has taken,
I'm the victim of your passion,
Now you're burning' too.'"
The Huey landed down in a clearing. Once it settled, the cabin doors opened.
"Go! Go! Go!" Wesker ordered.
Jill ran out from the chopper, her Samurai Edge drawn and ready as she and the others checked their surroundings. Wesker raised his radio.
"Bravo Team, do you read? This is Alpha Team. Over," he called.
No response.
"Bravo Team, do you copy? This is Alpha Team. Over."
Nothing.
Jill eyed the trees and bushes as they rustled, listening intently. Wesker frowned.
"According to their last transmission, their helicopter should be located just up ahead. Stay sharp and keep your eyes peeled," he ordered. "Redfield, you're on point. Burton, cover him. Frost, Valentine, cover the rear. Let's find Bravo and bring them home."
"Yes sir," the Alphas affirmed in unison.
Bravo Team's chopper was located two hundred meters ahead. A few trees and branches were knocked down, but it was the helicopter's condition that took the S.T.A.R.S. officers by surprise. It was a complete wreck. Parts of it were cut clean off. But that wasn't what drew their immediate attention.
Chris stared at the sight before them.
"What...the..." he trailed off.
Jill put a hand over her mouth and turned around, vomiting into a bush.
"Mother of God!" Barry gasped.
Even the unshakable Wesker had his mouth open in shock. Stabbed into the ground like a makeshift crucifix beside the helicopter was the propeller. On the top upper blade pointing to the sky, however, mounted obscenely like some disgusting scarecrow or trophy was Kevin's dismembered upper half, his ribcage exposed, his eyes missing, probably the result of crows. Flies buzzed around noisily, their fat bodies wandering all over his flesh and exposed ribs.
"Mother. FUCKERS!" Frost said, yelling the last part as he clenched his Mossberg angrily.
"Keep the noise down," Wesker hissed. "You'll give away our position."
Chris lowered his head down respectfully to their fallen comrade.
'Rest in peace, Kevin.'
Wesker then turned his attention to the damage on the helicopter. "What do you make of this, Frost?"
Chris watched as Frost kept his eyes fixed on the Bravo pilot's torso, crossing himself before turning away.
"I'll need to take a closer look, Captain," the Omni Man said.
Wesker nodded. "Go ahead."
Taking that as his cue, Chris watched as Frost approached the chopper, studying the damage to the cabin and propellers. After a few minutes, he pulled away, perplexed.
"Well?" Wesker said expectantly.
Frost turned back to them, blinking in confusion.
"What is it?" Chris asked.
The Omni Man frowned.
"...I...don't know," he said with uncertainty. "The cuts look clean. It almost looks like some sort of saw went through it, but...that's...impossible!"
The Alphas glanced at each other, puzzled by this news.
"It must be a pretty powerful one to cut through it," Barry commented.
Chris gestured to Kev's torso. "I'll take him down."
"Don't," Wesker spoke.
Chris turned to face him. "But Captain-"
"This is a crime scene, Redfield," the Alpha Captain reminded. "If we want to nail the bastards responsible, we need to preserve the evidence." He looked to the torso, adding, "What evidence is left, anyway. We should focus on finding Bravo, otherwise they all may end up just like this. Or worse."
The Point Man stood quietly, then nodded.
"You're right." he said. "I'm sorry, Captain."
Wesker nodded back.
"We'll get them," he assured.
Bushes rustled, drawing everyone's attention. Chris raised his weapon as everyone pointed theirs to a bush close to the chopper as it shook.
"Safeties off," Wesker ordered.
The Alphas obeyed.
"I am Captain Wesker of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. Identify yourself," the Team Captain commanded.
The bush shook even more, the rustling growing. Chris waited with baited breath, his finger on the trigger.
It emerged.
Chris and the others stared.
"What the fuck?" he breathed.
The thing looked like a dog, like a skinny Rottweiler of some sort...but...it wasn't. For one, parts of its skin were grey and scaly like a lizard's, with a pair of bat-like wings sprouting from its shoulders, a long gray crest protruding from the back of its head and an exposed rib cage.
"The hell is this thing?!" Barry muttered.
Jill stared, her mouth gaping open.
Wesker's face was unreadable.
The creature snarled as it stepped out from the bushes. The Alphas backed away slowly, their weapons trained on the creature. More dogs started to emerge, all of them different from whatever the hell this thing was, but not for the better. They all looked like some sick bastard had skinned them, with pasty white eyes. The leader of this "pack", if it could be called that, charged toward Frost, leaping up toward the Omni Man as he discharged his weapon.
According to history books, it was the shot heard around the world that began the American Revolution in 1775. On July 24th, 1998, at four thirty in the afternoon, it was the shot that marked the beginning of an endless nightmare as wave after wave of hounds began to charge, causing the Alphas to fire their weapons all at once. More dogs started appear along with others like their "leader".
"Everyone retreat back to the helicopter!" Wesker commanded.
"Covering fire!" Barry yelled as he blasted several with his Colt Anaconda.
Chris ran as fast as he could, firing over his shoulder at the pursuing animals.
'Just a little further, just a little further!' he thought. 'Don't let up now!'
Gunshots echoed and popped as they discharged their weapons. They were getting closer to the helicopter.
'Just a little further, just a little-'
Chris' heart stopped as he saw the helicopter lift.
"No no no no no NO!" The Point Man muttered. "BRAD!"
"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE, VICKERS!" Wesker snarled.
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!" Jill yelled.
"DON'T YOU LEAVE, BRAD!" Frost called. "DON'T YOU FUCKING-"
The helicopter was airborne now. The Alphas waved their arms and yelled furiously, some even firing up to the sky as it disappeared over the trees.
"BRAD YOU CHICKENSHIT!" Barry roared.
Chris and his coworkers stared in shock and disbelief.
"He left us!" Frost said disbelievingly. "Fucker just left us!"
"As soon as I get my hands on him, I'm going to wring that coward's neck!" Chris growled.
"You will have to wait once I've finished with him," Wesker said darkly.
"Guys," Jill said nervously, "we have company."
The dogs charged toward them.
"RUN!" Chris yelled as he fired.
The Alphas ran through the trees, the various branches cutting their shirts and pants. Redfield's chest burned, his legs protesting in pain as they ran for an indeterminate amount of time.
"I'm out of ammo!" he called.
"I'm down to one clip!" Jill yelled.
"Conserve your ammunition!" Wesker ordered. "I see a mansion at twelve o'clock, three hundred meters ahead. Head there!"
"Roger!"
Pushing past the trees and long grass that reached up to their waists, the Alphas ran. Chris could hear the bushes and grass rustle behind him along with the growls and barks of their canine pursuers, even at times feeling their hot breath on the back of his heels as he narrowly escaped being nipped. Up ahead, the mansion loomed, a massive grey and white fancy thing that had a statue of a woman at the front. The closer the Alphas moved toward it, the larger it became.
With the last bit of willpower he could muster, Redfield ran with everything he had, his lungs and legs begging for him to stop, his face flushed as his heart thundered in his chest. Reaching out with his hand, he grabbed hold of the door handle and pushed past.
"EVERYONE IN!" He called.
Jill ran in along with Wesker and Barry.
"HURRY, JOSEPH!" Chris yelled.
"YOU'RE ALMOST THERE, BUDDY!" Barry called. "JUST A FEW MORE FEET!"
The Omni Man fired five more rounds at the pack with his Mossberg, then bolted through the door.
Chris slammed the door, then fell back as he felt heavy weight push back.
"I need help!"
The Alphas struggled as they attempted to push the door furiously into its frame. Once Chris was able to get it closed, he threw on the locks then backed away, watching and listening as it shook. After several minutes, the barking stopped. No one moved.
"Are they gone?" Jill asked, her voice a strangled parody of itself.
Joseph panted, wiping the sweat out of his eyes.
"Don't know, don't care," he said. "I'm just glad we made it out of there in one piece."
Chris let out a deep sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the floor.
"Get up, Redfield," Wesker said.
"I just need a little rest, Captain," the Alpha Point Man muttered. "I need to catch my breath."
"What the hell were those things?!" Jill asked. "Did you see them?!"
"We all did," the Team Captain nodded.
"Since when are winged dogs a thing around here?"
"Perhaps they're costumes," Frost suggested.
"And those other dogs...Jesus, they had no skin!" she said in distress.
Chris studied Jill as she watched the door nervously. No doubt what had been done to them deeply troubled her, for she herself was a dog owner. The idea of someone, anyone, doing that to their pet, even to Jill's beloved golden retriever Philip, was repulsive. The Point Man looked to Wesker as he got back onto his feet.
"What do you think, Captain?" he asked.
Before he could utter a response, there came a crash to their left from one of the rooms, causing everyone to draw up their weapons.
"Redfield, Frost, go check it out," Wesker ordered.
"I don't have any ammo, sir," the latter replied.
The Alpha Captain reached into his vest and held two clips in offering. Taking them, Chris smiled in appreciation.
"Thank you, Captain."
Wesker nodded. "Don't mention it. Now go."
"Yes sir."
Raising his sidearm, the Alpha Point Man headed toward the door and grabbed the handle, his heart beating noisily in his ears as it slowly opened...