Chapter 6: Another Hit To The Backbone
I sat up with a start and was promptly slammed back down onto a pillow. A hiss seeped from my teeth when I finally registered the sharp discomfort at my wound.
"Stay still," Wesker commanded.
The scent of my blood sullied his bare hands. Cold air caressed my nearly naked torso. My stomach coiled like a cobra at the sight of Wesker's focus on me. I clenched my jaw and watched him stitch my wounds closed with surgeon-like precision. "What are you doing?"
"Ensuring my investment survives long enough to be of use."
I growled at his possessive tone. He pressed into the stitches to silence me.
"You bugger!" I winced and surveyed the room.
We were in the backroom of a store. It was difficult to pinpoint what kind of store it was from the random knick-knacks stacked against the walls.
"Since you're so intent on voicing unsolicited opinions, how about answering my questions instead? Who unleashed the bio-weapons?"
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"These cretins are targeting you."
"Targeting me?"
"That is how it appears from my standing." Wesker examined my face and a satisfied smirk alleviated his usual stoicism. "Your recovery rate is remarkable, My Lady."
Wesker's use of the honorific tightened my stomach and had my heart aflutter. Bloody Hell, I hadn't heard that in a long time. I gulped and flinched when Wesker bent forward to the wound in my shoulder. The warmth of his breath near my neck sent goosebumps across my skin. His damned scent of leather and spice was more delightful than I'd like to admit. He tore the excess thread with his teeth.
He raised a brow at my reaction. "You're a little dense, aren't you?"
That's a first, I pulled myself into a sitting position and immediately glared impassively at the gun he aimed at my head. "So much for ensuring my survival."
"Yes. It would be a waste to kill you but I will if you don't cooperate."
"Uh-huh. Well, sorry to disappoint you, Blondie. There's plenty of assholes that have the means to do this."
It finally hit me. Shit. This nightmare is my damn fault. I had to close my eyes shut the moment heat climbed up my spine and pooled in my chest. Something fluttered onto my lap. A torn Polaroid picture stared back at me, the gray expanse of sky bleeding into gray waves was too familiar. Clacks of pebbles from the beach rang in my head. Damien's cigarette and ocean breeze aroma triggered a cold rush in my veins. His electric blue eyes smiled up to me from the picture and his arm was draped around a younger, daft version of me.
"The buggers from Forks found me. How?"
"How they found you is irrelevant. I'm more concerned with how they got their hands on the bio-weapons."
My throat tightened. Damien's handsome mug ripped a scar clean off my chest and reopened the gaping wound in my heart. I fought against the urge to cry stinging my eyes. The last I saw of him was the terror in his gaze giving way to acceptance when Camael drove that damn sword down. Another instance of my past taking someone I grew to love.
"I don't know," my voice a stretched whisper.
"And what of the games?" he pried.
I took a deep breath. "Ever heard of Copenhagen's interpretation of quantum mechanics or Vilenkin's theory of eternal inflation?"
Wesker chuckled and grinned when he noticed my irritated stare.
"What's so funny?"
He shrugged, reminded me the bloke was still somewhat human. "I'm surprised you've heard of it. Not as dense as you look after all."
My eyes narrowed. "Sure. What's a virologist doing looking into cosmic and quantum theories, light reading?"
"You played the game."
Whoops, I shrugged.
Wesker stood up and tossed my radio back towards me. "Channel three."
I arched an eyebrow and switched the dial to three, "Anyone there? Over."
"Neah? Neah, it's Jacky!"
I shot Wesker a glare and he looked more intrigued than conceited. "Jacky, tell me you're still in that storage room."
"No. Someone cleared out the storage room. Neah, they all… he killed everyone. What's going on?"
Tears started to build in my eyes and I bit back a lump in my throat. "Where are you now?" Before Jacky could answer Wesker ripped the radio from my hands and my reflexes took over. Within seconds I had Wesker pinned against the shelves with the chef's knife to his neck. "Where is she?"
Wesker's surprise was short-lived when he masked his shock with satisfaction. "Safe, for now. You will be locating the perpetrators of this mess for me. I believe you are aware of what will happen if you don't."
A guttural sound escaped from my chest. I gnashed my teeth and a golden glow from my eyes reflected dimly off Wesker's shades. He leered at me smugly and quickly turned the tables. I grunted in discomfort when he lifted me off my feet by my wrist. My hand reached out instinctively towards his neck but he slammed it against the shelf behind me. Wood splinters bit into the back of my hand. The shelves agitated my shoulder wound and dug into my spine. He towered over me so closely his chest brushed against mine while he took a calming breath. For a split second, I could imagine the give of his ribcage if I had punched forward with all I had. Warmth boiled in my core while I squirmed.
A snarky smile curled his lips. "You harbor quite a few secrets don't you, My Lady?"
"How do you know I'm to blame for all this!"
"The Tyrant was sent for you. I had already been tracking the culprits but they manage to slip from my grasp. It would appear superhumans are not a far-fetched concept in this universe."
Superhuman? It is Presul! They should think I'm dead!
He gripped my jaw and forced me to lock eyes with his glowing red gaze. "You have two hours to locate them. Don't disappoint me, Jasmine."
How? He vanished like a winter's breeze.
Panic bubbled in my chest. I started to hyperventilate. I collapsed to my knees. Fucking sociopath is going to get it! I'd never felt so helpless and used since… No! I'm not doing this shit again. How do I always end up here! A tool, a weapon.
I wanted to tear the place apart. Thrash the shelves or punch craters into the walls. I'd do anything to rid myself of the lead weight in my chest. I muffled my sobs with my hands and shivered while the familiar, suffocating rage filled me to the brim. They found me, and innocent people died because of me. Who had they sent this time? I nearly pierced my arms with my nails when I hugged myself and stood up. My heart rate slowed to an even pace and my watery eyes focused on the equipment on a table nearby.
The burden of Jacky's and Leon's survival fell heavier on my shoulders. I couldn't stop beating the ever-living crap out of myself for being the cause of the mess. Wesker wasn't the only bugger that was going to own up, whomever unleashed the nightmare would find out the true meaning of Hell.
It hurt to pull on my torn shirt and I slowly shrugged on my jacket. I snapped the holster around my waist and secured it to my thighs. The handguns were heavily modified Berettas M92F in all black with fixed sights. Leon's handgun was sadly nowhere in sight. Wesker left ammo in my backpack and I strapped two magazines to my holster. I found a burner phone in the bottom of the bag, presumably how I'd report to Wesker. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the backroom into a store with figurines, vegan soap, and jewelry. What caught my eyes was the shiny katana with a red sheath. If only.
The bulk of the gear was all too familiar, comforting even, and I proceeded onward with caution. My best start was to find the security office that surveyed the mall. I took a quick gander at the map then headed towards the glass railings. I counted three floors, including the one I was on. Third floor, good.
I walked quickly towards a pair of double doors covered with bloody handprints. It was locked and I finally used the keyring I snatched from Alex's body. Jeanette is going to have to wait. I'm sure Leon can keep the kid calm, but if she even leaves a scratch on him she and Bennett will be next in line.
It was quiet. The AC chilled the corridors and the white aesthetic of the walls only made them colder. At least the gray carpeting broke up the monotony, slightly. I checked the doors for offices. Most of the doors were locked and I'd waste time trying keys only for the rooms to be spare storage rooms. I needed to find a list of keycodes in case one of the offices I had to go through couldn't be opened with the key ring. Of course, I could always kick the door down. Frankly, I wasn't keen on the idea of getting caught by Leon, or any other civilian, in the middle of a show of superhuman strength.
A despondent moan started to echo through the corridors. What the fuck? The corridors needed to be unlocked. How could a zombie- Right. The gas cloud hardly had any obstacles to deal with. Perhaps the twat picked up on the scent of blood on me and it woke its happy ass up. While I worked my way up the halls its moaning grated at my nerves. Anticipation settled icily in my gut. I was getting closer but it seemed like the dolt was content to stay still instead of seeking me out. If I was lucky, maybe I didn't have to run into it. Fat chance.
Finally, one of the doors turned out to be a security office. The mall really should've marked their damn offices. I entered and covered my nose from the stench. Bodies lied around the floor, torn to bits. Most of the injuries didn't resemble human bites.
I marched to the chief security's desk for the codes. I tiptoed around the bodies and scanned the paperwork on the Chief's desk for anything remotely useful. Oh, fuck me. Of course, why make my life easy? He had a list all right, a list of all the employees that had a code on them. The page had a date on it but it wasn't from the current week. Hold up, do codes change every week?
"Shit," I whispered through my teeth and started to rummage through the drawers. Thankfully, I found the correct list. "9823 Pablo Pirius. Okay."
I took out my chef's knife and rammed the blade into the first undead skull in reach. I was careful to aim for the exact point where the brain stem met the spine and shuddered at the sound of shattering bone.
"Not Pirius," I sighed when I examined his badge. I looked on towards the rest of the bodies. "Fun times."
Not one of the bodies I inspected was an employee with a code. I walked out of the office sorely disappointed. The lone moan was still echoing and I decided to check on the dolt. I followed the sound behind a heavy door and footsteps shuffled around the moment I arrived. It pounded against the door while I unlocked it and I gripped my knife tight. The second I opened it I jumped back from the expected lunge.
Something beat me to the punch. The body was hauled into the air. His feet dangled lazily. Darkened blood was sprayed onto my face. Skin stretched like taffy and snapped once gravity claimed the zombie's body. The head followed with a thud. The killer jumped down from the air duct and screeched at me. It was a grotesque humanoid creature with fur, extra insectoid limbs, a thorax, exposed mouthparts like the proboscis of a fly, and sickle-like talons.
"Chimeras," I muttered to myself. "Shit!"
I dodged the first swipe then it jumped to the ceiling. It crawled towards me. I couldn't help the instant cringe and flipped backward to avoid the waterfall of acid. Nope! Big Nope!
Scuttling above finally brought attention to the vents overhead. I growled to myself while I dodged and weaved around the Chimera. It was like trying to speedrun the game but a lot less fun when it was real. I searched the body of the zombie the Chimera decapitated. "Oh joy!"
I picked his pockets as quick as I could and rolled under the Chimera's swing. I pocketed the piece of paper with a code. My eyes locked on the assailant. Another Chimera emerged and jumped down to take a hit. I landed a hard donkey-kick into its pelvis and watched it fly up to the top of the shelf behind it. Black blood oozed down the wall onto the shelf and the Chimera fidgeted until it bled out. The putrid odor was enough to make me gag and I spun to avoid another Chimera. Chimera nicked my arm and tore my leather jacket. Relentless buggers. It's my favorite jacket asshole!
My blood must have excited the creature since a chorus of screeches reverberated in the corridors and the scuttling sped up. Shit!
I ran down the hall and a sneaky bugger snatched me up into the air. I gripped its talons with my bare hands. I grappled with the bitch then swung my leg up into an axe-kick to its face. I dropped like a sack of potatoes onto my knee and took off towards a set of double doors. Fuck locked!
The talons had cut up my hands and the blood made it difficult to grip the keys. I looked up and spun into a roundhouse to kick a jumping Chimera out the air. Its neck broke when it made contact with the wall and I finally found the right key. A trio crawled quickly along the walls. I opened the doors and slammed them shut in their faces. The sharp ting of talons against steel doors resounded and I inhaled deeply to calm my erratic breathing.
Cigarette smoke filled my lungs and provoked a short coughing fit. A lone cig slowly faded on a nearby trashcan. The last thing the mall needed was a damn fire. I put the thing out and stared at the charred embers smeared on the plastic. Some poor bloke at least had a final smoke.
I rummaged in my pockets for my cell but it was gone. Of course, he'd take it. Instead, I used the burner phone and dialed Jacky's cell. The voice on the other line was indeed unwelcomed but not unexpected.
"Did you complete your mission?"
"Should've known you'd take her phone. No, obviously not."
"Stop wasting time and do as you're told," he hung up.
Rude. I kept the phone in the backpack to avoid losing the damn thing and wiped the blood off my hands on my leggings. The wounds had shrunk from gashes into thin scabs and I swallowed back the anxiety bubbling in my stomach. It had been years since I needed to heal from severe wounds. To watch the process that often landed me in trouble do its job nearly had me bash my head in frustration. My regenerative abilities were starting to work faster too. Curiously, I lifted my flimsy shirt and the wound in my abdomen was completely healed. Yup, it's picking up speed.
I looked up and noticed the camera in the corner by a tech store and flipped it the bird like a petulant child. The halls were calm, save the groans of zombies, and I'd pick off everyone with a mall cop's uniform along my trek.
Wesker said superhumans so; it has to be someone supernatural. Is it Adrian, Rayen? Which poor soul was pissed off enough to cause such a disaster? How did anyone find me? Worse yet, had anything made it out of the mall and started wreaking havoc in the neighborhood? My past sins claimed more innocent lives despite my attempts to right my wrongs and just fall off the radar. Is there no escape from it all?
