Claire quickly, but quietly, pushed open the smaller gate off to the side of the Raccoon Police Department's main gates. She had guessed, based on her long route through the Kendo Gun Shop, a series of back alleys and a small basketball court, that Leon would reach the station ahead of her; assuming he made it there at all.
Fortunately, he had done so. Claire had spotted him standing behind the large main gates, which were being swarmed by zombies. From the looks of things, he had the gate firmly held shut, so he was safe. At least, he was safe from zombies on the outside. He had spotted her too, and had indicated with is arms for her to head for this smaller side gate, while he rattled the main gates to lure over enough zombies to make Claire's trip across the street much easier.
Once she was in, she bolted the gate shut and took a moment to catch her breath. From where she stood, there were two paths: one leading to a set of stairs down to the small walkway underneath the front doors, the other to another small gate out to the front doors. She headed over to the latter, as Leon approached from his side.
"Claire. I'm glad to see you're okay," he said as he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. His other hand fiddled with a large padlock that kept a chain secured to the gate. "Dammit."
"Yeah, I'm glad to see you made it too. Good thinking, rattling the gate like that."
"It may have made the situation worse. We don't know how strong these things are. I hope they can't break down the gates."
"We'd better get inside and help fortify the station then."
"I don't think that'll help."
"What do you mean?"
"When I arrived, I quickly went inside to see about getting some help for when you showed up. But the main hall is deserted. I checked one of the offices and found Lieutenant Branagh. Do you know him?"
"I think I met him once when I came to meet Chris last year. Marvin Branagh. How is he?"
"It's real bad. He's been bitten, and he locked himself in the office so he couldn't hurt anyone."
"Jesus, no."
"I'm sorry. He seems like a good man."
"Isn't there anything we can do for him?"
"He says there's no known cure for the virus. He had a dizzy spell and thought he might be turning, so he told me to check the S.T.A.R.S. office, since 'some of the things they said back in July make sense now', whatever that means."
"There was a series of cannibal murders up in the forest outside of town around that time. That can't be a coincidence."
"Definitely not. I guess the office is our next port of call."
"Yeah. I'll work my way around and..." Claire trailed off as she felt something on her head. She felt nothing as she touched the spot with her hand, but the cloudy night sky seemed to confirm her suspicion as she looked upwards. "Feels like it's starting to rain."
Leon looked Claire over, his gaze slowing as it covered her grazed legs. "We need to get inside. Now. Last thing we need is you catching a cold during all this."
"Okay. I'll head down the stairs and work my way around."
"Hold on, I'll hop the railing and go with you." Leon was already on his way before Claire could react.
"No, wait!"
"What?" he replied, coming back into view.
"The people inside probably barricaded the entrances. We should stay apart for now to make sure at least one of us can get inside."
"Good point," Leon admitted, seemingly reluctant. "It'll be a problem if there's no way in from down there."
"Exactly."
"Alright. Do you know your way to the S.T.A.R.S. office?"
"I think so. I should be able to find my way once I get my bearings inside."
"We'll meet there if we can both get inside then. We should be able to find some weapons there. Or information about your brother, if nothing else."
"Okay. I'll see you inside."
"Oh, and one last thing."
"Yeah?"
"Here." Leon reached down to his belt and produced a sheathed combat knife. He held it out through the bars and into her waiting hand. "Take this. I have some idea what's inside and I have more experience with a gun. It'll be more useful for you."
While Claire wasn't sure she liked the implication that Leon worried she was a bad enough shot to repeatedly miss and waste all of her ammo, she had to admit that, given her screw-up with the safety in the car, that there was at least some validity to that concern. She nodded her head and attached it to her own belt.
"How are you for ammo?" he asked, checking his own weapon's magazine.
"I've got a few rounds left," she reported, mimicking his actions.
"Here." He passed her a spare magazine.
Again, she felt more than a little condescended to, before she remembered him saying he had entered the building already and surmising that he had managed to collect a few from there. She regretted running the second Kendo's store was compromised, instead of grabbing a weapon on her way out. Reluctantly, she conceded Leon's point and took the magazine from him, replacing the almost spent one in her own weapon.
"You good to go?" he asked. Despite the unintentional condescension, having Leon around to look out for her was, admittedly, quite comforting. He reminded her of Chris in a lot of ways; particularly from back when he had first joined the air force.
"Yes. I'll see you inside, Leon."
"Okay. Good luck, Claire."
With that, the two split up, Leon entering the station through the front door just as Claire began descending the stairs below him. There was a small supply room down there, if she recalled correctly. Since Leon hadn't come down here yet, she hoped there might be some supplies in there, if she could get inside. She had learned to pick locks after seeing Jill in action, much to Chris' chagrin, so she was sure getting in wouldn't be too much trouble.
She stopped dead as she reached the bottom. She had made the mistake of keeping her eyes on her feet instead of in front of her. Had she been more wary of her surroundings, she would have seen it sooner. Fortunately, it was not a horde of zombies waiting for her at the bottom; though she might have actually preferred that.
Instead, what awaited her was, from an outside perspective, a preferable alternative to a large horde of nameless, faceless undead. But this one wasn't nameless or faceless. His bright yellow jacket, although stained red with a sickening amount of blood running down from a gaping neck wound, was the first sign of his identity. As he stepped a little closer into the illumination of the entryway lights above, his face became clear.
Brad Vickers was a member of the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team, along with Chris, Jill and Barry. While Claire wasn't as familiar with Brad as she was Barry or even Jill, he had seemed nice enough in their few encounters. He was polite, courteous and definitely not suited to his dangerous occupation. Still, the others always assured her he was qualified and could be relied upon when it counted. Though it was cruel to think so, Claire would have easily placed Brad as one of the first to go in a situation like this. But that didn't make her stomach churn any less.
Facing a horde of unknowns was nothing compared to this, and Claire worried all the more for the fate of Jill, Barry and especially Chris. Perhaps, he would have been better off dying in that gas explosion that was alleged to have killed a few of the Bravo Team members back in July. But then again, based on what Leon had heard from Lt. Branagh, that probably wasn't even true.
If nothing else, she could put Brad out of his misery before she continued inside. She could have tested out the knife Leon had given her, but getting too close, in light of who this zombie had been, was probably the worst approach she could take. Instead, she drew her handgun, spread her legs firmly, made sure the safety was definitely off this time, and raised the weapon out in front of herself. She took her time lining up her shot, which she felt only prolonged Brad's suffering, but she also felt sure he would want her to take the chance to practice with the weapon to better prepare her for the challenges to come.
Brad took two more steps closer, his stiff arms reaching out with paradoxically limp wrists. He was within three metres of her now.
Claire silently apologised to Brad and squeezed the trigger.
The trip up to the S.T.A.R.S. office wasn't too difficult once she was inside. She entered from the side door on the eastern side of the building, the exact opposite side from where she needed to be. Fortunately, she passed a number of corpses whose seemingly fresh blood seemed at odds with the level of decay in their features. Whether they had been shot by on-station officers or even Leon trying to make her journey easier, she couldn't say.
The supply room beneath the entrance had mostly been a bust. No weapons or ammo, no radios, no food. She had managed to find a first aid kit, though, which she used to patch up her scrapes and bruises, leaving her all the more self-conscious about her decision to wear shorts. Fortunately, the bandages did seem to help keep her a little warmer, at least.
The large office between her entryway and the main hall was large and seemed to still contain a fair few active zombies. Claire slowly made her way around the room via the hallway, where only a couple of stragglers remained. Neither one noticed her, so she contemplated approaching quietly with her knife. She worried that her boots would cause too much noise, but the prospect of stepping through blood and guts in just her socks or bare feet was far from appealing.
Since the zombies seemed to lack basic intelligence, she wondered if they could understand the context of an object moving into their view. To test her theory that they would simply focus on the object and not its point of origin, she produced her original magazine, now containing only two rounds, and slid it harshly across the floor past them. It passed between the legs of the closest zombie (a female officer) and past the farthest (a male civilian) and slowed to a stop just short of the opposite wall. Perfect.
She waited and prayed as the two turned their attention towards the errant object. They didn't turn back to where it had come from. Instead, they slowly approached to investigate the magazine itself. Seizing her chance, Claire approached as quietly as she could, staying low to avoid being seen by the zombies inside the office. In one fluid motion that surprised even herself, Claire rose to a standing position, grabbed the officer by the collar, and plunged the knife into the back of her skull. The sound was sickening. As was the rush of blood that almost touched her hand as it oozed out of the fresh wound. She avoided contamination by releasing her hold, causing the officer to collapse like a ragdoll to the ground.
The clatter of the body alerted the other zombie, which turned its head in a loose way that suggested severe damage to its neck. It because more alert and aggressive as it noticed her. It turned itself around with all the grace of a fridge on legs and limped its way towards her.
Thinking quickly, Claire put her hands under the officer's arms and lifted her, thankful that this particular officer was not built like Barry. With as much force as she could muster, Claire shoved the body of the first zombie into the second, knocking it off its feet and pinning it under the officer's weight. What was relatively easy for a human to lift, was a fair bit harder for a rigor-mortis-ridden zombie, it seemed.
With the zombie unable to attack, Claire contemplated pinning it further with her own weight and stabbing it in the skull. She hesitated at the thought that even a scratch might be able to spread this potentially supernatural curse. She opted to instead move on while she had the chance. Giving the zombie as wide a berth as possible while it tried in vain to grab her ankle, she moved along the far wall, eyes shooting constantly between the pinned zombie, the windows of the office, the corner ahead and the corpses lining the wall beneath her. Once around the corner, with no zombies in sight, Claire moved quickly to the door into the main hall and slammed it shut behind her.
The hall was grand; a result of the building having once been a museum, before it was converted into the new police HQ back in '69. A building this large was deemed necessary for the police to operate from as the city continued to expand, along with the resulting rise in crime. It was certainly unique and somewhat gothic, with a large statue of some goddess dominating the back wall on the upper floor.
After checking the front desk, attached to which was a note written by Leon to inform her that he had left two magazines and a flashlight for her there, Claire proceeded towards the two sets of stairs that led up to the statue at either side. Supposedly, those stairs had not originally been there until the police had renovated the building. The original museum had been built with a guided tour in mind, beginning on the ground floor along the western side before moving up a floor and going all the way around. Aside from an emergency ladder, the only way back down was one of two staircases at either end of the long building, one of which was external. It was a miracle the police ever got anything done with such eccentric planning. Perhaps, that played a part in the story of the building's downfall.
As she approached the stairs, a large pool of blood caught her attention. A smaller trailed led from the pool to the door of the office that Leon had mentioned. Claire stepped closer to the door and gingerly knocked on it. There was no answer, at first, but a second knock resulted in a weak voice speaking up, as if roused from sleep by the knocking.
"Wh...Who's there?"
"Um, hello? Lt. Branagh? It's Claire Redfield. Chris Redfield's sister?"
She worried he might have slipped into unconsciousness again when she received no answer, but one did come after a few moments.
"Yeah. Mm, I remember you. What are you- mmh- doing here?"
"I'm looking for my brother. I've not heard from him since July. I was hoping someone here might know what's going on with him."
There was another uncomfortably long pause before he answered. He was either struggling, or choosing how best to respond for any number of reasons.
"Chris got suspended."
"Wait. Did you say 'suspended'?"
"Y-Yeah... Back in August. Elran from the Boy's Crime Department spilled coffee on him and... Chris lashed out. I guess all the stress was getting to him."
"Stress?"
"Get up to the... the S.T.A.R.S. office if... if you can... I'm not gonna..."
After that, there were no further replies from Lt. Branagh.
With the concerning news of Chris' suspension fresh in her mind, Claire set off at a quickened pace to get to the bottom of this. She headed up the stairs to the library above the office. She found herself hoping there might be some damage to the floor so she could circumvent the lock and check on Lt. Branagh, but no such thing was to be found.
Instead, she found a handful of zombies in the room. Consisting of two floors and a number of spaced-out bookcases and tables, there was enough room for Claire to almost effortlessly weave her way around the zombies and have the door closed and barred with a chair before any of them could even come close to grabbing her.
From the small landing she found herself on, she was one door away from the hallway leading to the S.T.A.R.S. office. The hallway was deserted, other than two dead zombies and one... Claire didn't even know what it was. It looked somewhat human, but stripped of its skin with its brain exposed. Its hands, if they could even be called that, were larger than its head and ended in massive, sword-like claws. Its feet had the same kinds of claws, but the legs seemed shrunken in a way that combined with the long arms to give off something of a primate vibe.
It had a long tongue that would give Gene Simmons a run for his money, spread out across the floor. Not only was it long, but it was thick too. She recall the gaping puncture wound on Brad's neck and wondered if this thing had been responsible. Or worse, another like it.
With her flashlight, she spotted a number of bullet wounds across its body, including two in the brain. She hoped this meant Leon had made it. She slowly pushed open the door to the well-lit office, her gun entering the room before she did. As the door revealed more of the room, she found Leon standing against the far wall between the desks, his weapon trained on the door until he saw her and lowered it.
"Leon!" Claire cried, running into the room and embracing him. Even with their earlier meeting outside the building, the gate separating them had made her feel like she and he weren't even close to one another. Without that dividing barrier, she now felt like she had found another living person for the first time since the Kendo Gun Store.
Though he hesitated at first, Leon did return the hug before patting her on the back and pushing her lightly away. "I'm glad you made it."
"You too. God, this whole station is a wreck."
"Yeah. I don't know if you went through the west wing on the ground floor, but the carnage down there... There are other things out there. Not just zombies."
"Like that thing outside this room? The skinned thing with the long tongue?"
"Yeah. That's the second one I've come across. There are probably more."
"That's just great. There's probably something even worse out there too."
"I wouldn't be surprised. But now that we're back together, we can stick together and tackle whatever comes as a team. Right?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Leon."
"Of course. Now, I got here just before you did, so I've not had a chance to properly search. The radio's on the fritz, so we can't use it to call for help or reach out to other officers throughout the city for information."
"It's probably being jammed by whoever's responsible to stop information from getting out."
"What?"
"Nothing. Elza, My roommate back in college, she's a big conspiracy nut. I guess she's rubbed off on me a little."
"Well, based on what Lt. Branagh said about that incident in July, that may not be beyond the realm of possibility."
"God, I hope not."
"For now, all we can do is focus on surviving this. And finding some clues about your brother, if we can. Conspiracies can wait for later."
"Yeah. You're right. Thanks, Leon."
"Lt. Branagh gave me a password to get into the lockup here." Leon handed a piece of paper with said password to Claire and pointed her towards the side room to the left, where the team's lockers and weapons were kept. "You go check the lockers for supplies and fresh clothes. I'll stay out here and look through these files."
Claire nodded. "Here," she said, handing over the remaining bandages to Leon. "Could come in handy later."
"Uh, sure?"
Claire limped over to the computer in front of the locker room, only now realising how much her legs stung and throbbed from the pain, and input the credentials. Once the door was open, she headed inside.
It was a small room designed for storage, naturally. A series of lockers lined the back wall, along with benches in front of them to sit on. Right next to them on the right, directly in front of her as she entered, was the weapon locker. Inside was a magnum, similar to Barry's personal Colt Python. She assumed there was another weapon storage room elsewhere in the station for general RPD use. They'd probably find more weapons there.
For now, Claire opened up Jill's locker, anticipating it being locked, but finding it slightly ajar. Either someone else had gotten to it before her, or Jill had left it open herself. Maybe she hoped whatever was left might be able to help anyone else who passed through. Fortunately, what was left would be useful for her. Inside were two changes of clothes. One seemed to cover even less skin than Claire's attire. Based on the empty hangar, Claire surmised that Jill may have come here for the same reason she had. Luckily, the other set of clothes was much more fitting: a black tank top, red jacket and dark jeans.
Claire let out a sigh of relief. "Good thing Jill and I are almost the same size," she said as she pulled the clothes loose. "And red was always more my colour than Jill's anyway."
Claire slipped off her boots before remembering she was not alone. The room was separated from the office by a wall, but there was also a window and door, both of which provided only minimal cover via some light latticework. It seemed the S.T.A.R.S. were just incredibly mature when it came to changing with the opposite sex present. Claire, however, was not.
"Hey. Could you, uh, give me some privacy, please?"
"Huh?" Leon looked up from whatever notes he was reading and recognised what Claire was doing. "Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry." He quickly turned his back to her, a few notes still in his hands to look over.
Claire kept her eyes on Leon as she quickly changed out of her shorts and jacket and into Jill's spare clothes. Her own boots would remain, as she felt that they granted some added protection and stopping power compared to Jill's extra pair of sneakers, especially since Jill's feet were a size or two larger than hers. It brought to mind that scene from Die Hard, but in reverse.
"So, you said you're in college?" Leon said as Claire began to change, vanquishing the awkward silence that dominated the room.
"That's right. What about it?"
"You came into town tonight. You don't go to Raccoon U?"
"Oh, no. I was gonna, but they don't offer the courses I was looking for."
"What courses are those?"
"Well, I love motorcycles, so I wanted to take engineering, but the Raccoon U course is too general."
"And you wanted something more specialised."
"Right. I can learn about cars another time. For now, I want to hone in on motorcycles. Then, once I'm done, I'm gonna build my own."
"Oh, nice. Any particular models take your fancy?"
"Well, the bike I've got right now is a Ducati 500 GTL from the '70's. My dad used to ride one of those back when he was younger. But what I'm really looking at is the Harley-Davidson Night Train. That baby's got fifty-six horsepower, five-thousand RPM, up to a hundred and fifty-five miles... Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away there. And I guess my Ducati got left behind at the gas station. Fuck."
"If we can secure a pickup, we might be able to go get it on our way out of town."
"True. You find anything out there?"
"Not yet. There's a report about an escaped convict who died around that time, and a report on a gas explosion at a mansion in the forest. Apparently, most of the S.T.A.R.S. died in the blast, including their captain. Only officers Burton, Redfield, Valentine, Vickers and Chambers survived."
Claire's mind went back to the image of Brad's broken body in the underpass - three fresh bullet wounds in his collar, neck and forehead. "Brad didn't make it," she mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Brad Vickers. He was zombified in the underpass. I came across him just after we split up."
"Jesus. Are you okay?"
"I will be. I just need a little time to process it."
"Hey. Just because one of the S.T.A.R.S. didn't make it, doesn't mean none of them did. This report is probably bogus, but it does claim Vickers never entered the mansion, since he was the pilot. If they saw something he didn't, they probably knew to get out of town ASAP. Or, losing so many of their friends back in July, maybe they just went on vacation and never came back."
"Chris doesn't take vacations. He always has to be forced to take his days off, and he doesn't really use the opportunity to travel, aside from visiting me. Apparently, he got suspended."
"Suspended?"
"Yeah." Claire stepped out of the locker room in her new clothes, adjusting the tank top around the waist. Her legs and arms were now covered and ready for the rainy night. "Lt. Branagh said it happened back in August."
"August... August..." Leon flicked through the reports until he found the one on the incident in question. "Someone spilled coffee on him... Huh?" A small envelope slipped out of the folder and fell to the floor. Claire crouched down to pick it up.
"This is Chris' handwriting."
"What?"
"And these stamps look legitimate. Maybe he really did go on vacation."
"Well, open it up." Leon seemed almost excited as Claire was to have this lead on Chris' whereabouts.
Claire did as he suggested and read aloud: "'To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds.' Buds? That doesn't sound like Chris."
"I'd have thought 'bestest' would've tipped you off first."
"That too. 'How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick.' He doesn't date either. To my and a lot of others' annoyance... 'Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella.' Ew, Jesus, Chris. 'Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface.' Wait, he really is in Europe? 'Maybe I'll extend my vacation for another six months.' Six months!? When is this dated? August 29th? He's gonna be gone until February?"
Leon pulled the letter closer to his own eyeline to more efficiently read through the note while Claire continued reeling. "'Barry, don't you even think of coming to join me. Wouldn't want to make all the cute girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me. Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I'm OK. Chris Redfield, August 29th.' This Jill. Did you try contacting her?"
"I did, right as the 'riots' started, but I couldn't reach her. I guess she got caught up in all this too."
"Well, we've not seen her body, so she probably left the city as soon as shit hit the fan."
Claire hoped he was right, sitting in silence in Chris' desk chair as she took in what she had learned. Chris really had gone on vacation and planned to be gone for God only knew how much longer without so much as a word to her.
Leon reread the note a few times before speaking again. "Could it be an encoded message?"
"Huh?"
"If what Lt. Branagh said about the S.T.A.R.S. not being believed about whatever happened in July is true, the 'Hanging in there against old Irons?' comment could be a coded reference to disputes with Chief Irons. And you did say the letter doesn't sound like it was written by him."
"Oh. So, this is Chris reporting in about whatever he's doing, under the guise of a letter about his vacation."
"Bingo."
"Alright. Pull up the file on the mansion incident. Cover-up or not, there could be some real clues in there."
"On it. ...It says the mansion belonged to an Ozwell E. Spencer. Isn't that the name of one of the founders of the Umbrella Corporation?"
"Umbrella?"
"Yeah. I did some research on Raccoon when I was applying for my position here. Apparently, one of Umbrella's founders lived just outside of town back when he and his partners formed the company. I guess this means he still did by July. Doesn't say his body was found there, though."
"Look here! 'Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella.' Umbrella. You think he's talking about the company?"
"If all this started with cannibal murders in the forest around the home of one of the company's founders, that would make sense. And I think I read that they have a major facility in Paris."
"And Umbrella is powerful enough for my dumb jamming theory to actually hold some water."
"...True. God, this might actually be true. Everything just lines up so perfectly. Maybe too perfectly. We shouldn't let ourselves be convinced this is true, just yet. That would limit our ability to find evidence that conflicts with the theory."
"Yeah, you're right. What's the plan now then?"
"First, we'll keep searching these files and gathering supplies. Then, we'll head down to the weapons locker below us. After that, we'll check in on Lt. Branagh and head to the eastern wing's upper floor. The chief's office is there, so we might find more survivors or information."
"Alright. Sounds like a plan."
While the search yielded some ammunition, the magnum as the most significant discovery. Claire forced Leon to take it, since it was a little too heavy for her taste, and she was damn sure he was a better shot than her, so she knew he'd make better use of the weapon's single magazine than she would have.
The only other discovery of note was a letter Claire found about the S.T.A.R.S. unit's new Samurai Edge handgun that had been developed shortly before the incident in July and was being tested by the Alpha Team at the time. The wording of the letter suggested that the designer, Robert Kendo, had been close friends with Barry. This made her feel even more guilty about leaving him behind when the zombies got a hold of him.
The trip to the weapons lockup was a short one. Only a handful of zombies in their path remained active. The rest had been either killed by Leon on his way up, or already dealt with by other survivors before he had even arrived. The lockup was roughly twice the size of the S.T.A.R.S. team's personal locker room, and had a shotgun, a revolver and a small submachine gun. Leon took the former and gave Claire instructions on how to wield the other two.
Across the hall from the lockup was the other entrance to the office Lt. Branagh was holed up in. They knocked on the door, but received no answer. Fearing the worst, Leon went to bash the door open, but Claire stopped him, pointing to a nearby skinned creature hanging on the ceiling like Spider-Man, which seemingly hadn't noticed them yet. Quietly moving around the creature, it became apparent that it had no eyes, relying instead on sound to track its prey. Good to know.
Leon guided Claire to a nearby blocked-off hallway. There was a high window leading into the conference room, which would save them a lot of time going back around. He lifted her up into the window and she helped pull him through from her elevated position atop a desk.
Once back in the main hall, Claire rushed over to the office door and knocked again. Still no answer. They spent a minute trying to get Branagh's attention, to no avail. Leon raised his shotgun and bashed the doorknob clean off with the butt of the weapon. Claire was about to push through the door, when Leon put an arm out in front of her. Remembering the potential danger, Claire nodded and stepped back. Best to let the professional take point.
Leon slowly pushed the door open into the dark office, his handgun and flashlight raised and ready. The desks that spanned the centre of the room were cluttered and messy. The officers had evidently left here in a hurry. Aside from various papers scattered around, Claire took note of a number of conical hats and other assorted party items. Hanging across the ceiling was some paper bunting with the phrase 'WELCOME LEON' written across it. Evidently, the party hadn't gone ahead as planned.
Leon froze upon seeing this, so Claire nudged him to get his head back in the game. They were looking for Lt. Branagh, who wasn't out in the open. He was likely in one of the two smaller offices to either side of the room. First, they checked the office to their immediate right. They found Lt. Branagh in there, slumped in a chair behind the desk. Leon indicated for Claire to wait in the doorway while he approached. He delicately checked for a pulse and listened for breathing. He backed away from his fellow officer and gently pushed Claire back outside, closing the door behind him.
"He's alive. Just unconscious."
Claire let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.
"I can't say how long that'll last, though. We should hurry to the chief's office and try and radio for help."
"Right. Let's go."
The zombies the pair encountered along the way were considerably less frightening, now that they were much more heavily-armed. Claire had no trouble mowing a few of them down with her SMG, while Leon took care of one of the skinned things with his shotgun.
As they proceeded through the hallways of the upper floor, a loud whirring sound began to approach the station from outside. It sounded like a helicopter. And sure enough, a bright searchlight, almost akin to a UFO, flew by the windows ahead of them.
"From what I recall, there's a rooftop just down this hallway," Leon informed Claire. "Sounds like the chopper's landing there."
The two proceeded, somewhere between cautiously and excitedly, coming to the corner ahead quickly. Before them was a door leading to the staircase down to the door Claire had originally entered the building through. The hallway turned left here, with another right just up ahead. Claire turned to face it, only to be greeted by an unusual sight.
In that corner was a child - a blonde girl, around ten-to-thirteen years old and dressed in what looked to be a blue and white school uniform. The girl turned upon hearing the two approach. She panicked and quickly fled away from them.
"Hey, wait!" Claire took off after her as fast as she could. The corner slowed her down some, which the girl hadn't had to contend with.
"Claire!" Leon called after her, but she was too focused on stopping the girl from becoming somebody's dinner to care.
Down the hall, Claire could hear the muffled sound of shouting, then automatic gunfire. The next thing she knew, she was being flung off her feet by some massive impact behind her. It was not too dissimilar to the earlier destruction of Leon's car.
She took a moment to recover from the shellshock of the impact, Leon's desperate calling of her name eventually breaking through the haze.
"Claire, goddammit! Answer me!"
"'m fine!... I'm fine!" Claire turned back to face the hallway, only to find what looked like a helicopter sticking through it and blocking it off. Her shocked brain slowly put the pieces together, just as a few errant sparks inside the cockpit ignited the leaking fuel.
"Claire! Run!" Leon called out before rushing back the why they'd come.
Claire's eyes widened as realisation struck. She dashed around the next corner, where a door awaited to her left - no doubt leading to the roof Leon had mentioned. The same roof on which the back of the chopper was presumably still sticking out. Crouching down and covering her head directly in the middle of the previous hallway and the door, Claire prepped herself for the blast as it rocked the building.
Once she felt it was safe, she peered around the corner at the flaming wreckage. There was no way in hell she was getting back that way. Peering through the glass in the door, the outside looked just as hazardous. Luckily, the rain had picked up, so she could probably hold out until the rain extinguished some of the flames. It wasn't like any of the zombies or skinned things could get her in here.
"Claire!" She could just about hear Leon calling over the roaring flames, giving her a powerful sense of déjà vu.
"I'm okay!" she called back. "I'm going to go after that little girl and work my way back around! But the blast is gonna draw the attention of the zombies! You have to get out of here!"
"Alright! I'll try to work my way around too! Be careful!"
"Will do! I'll see you later!"
"Definitely!"
Claire covered her face with her elbow to keep the smoke out as she backed away from the wreckage. She approached the door, briefly touching the metal door handle and finding it not too hot to handle. She opened the door and stepped out onto the roof. The girl was nowhere to be seen; not alive, zombified, torn apart or burnt to a crisp. At the very least, she was good at avoiding the zombies. Two of said zombies had survived the crash, even if their flesh was currently burning off in chunks.
Once again, Claire planted her feet firmly, raised her handgun, and pulled the trigger.
This was one of those pieces that took on a life of its own. Originally, it was just Claire encountering the zombieified Brad, as well as the meeting in the S.T.A.R.S. office where Claire would change her clothes and Leon would ask why she doesn't attend Raccoon University. And then the two being forcefully split up by the chopper crash instead of splitting up by choice. Just a few simple ideas that spawned something larger. I considered splitting the story into two parts, but ending with Leon and Claire being separated by a crashed and exploded vehicle made for a nice parallel with the previous short's conclusion.