Sorry for the delay, I wanted to make sure that this chapter was actually good. This is basically the first chapter that's not just a prologue, and hopefully my uploads and chapters will be more consistent. Anyway, enjoy!
Chris stumbled out of that goddamn shower after an hour of the intense water pressure and chemical bath had scrubbed off three whole layers of his skin. Groaning, he reached for his clothes which he had sent through a separate wash, and were mercifully dry. After a second to gather his thoughts, he pushed through the swinging door, and into a lobby where Sherry was already waiting.
The lobby was a simple room, with chairs lining the walls and cheap sports magazines rested on tables intermittently. In the middle of the opposite wall, an incredibly secure, electronically locked door stood, out of place in this otherwise normal room.
He and Sherry didn't exchange any words; nothing needed to be said.
Eventually, the loudspeakers crackled to life. The same British woman spoke up: "Thank you for your patience! In just a second, the door to the main facility will unlock. From there, our specially-trained team of soldiers will lead you to room 203, where Mr. Mueller and Lieutenant Nivans are staying. There, all of you should wait for further instructions.
With a click, the heavy door swung open, revealing a long hallway and an unreasonable amount of personnel waiting for them. Chris and Sherry shared one last glance. They both saw the obvious. After a second of hesitation, they walked into the middle of the group and allowing themselves to be led, finally, back to their teammates.
The obvious part was that the 'specially-trained team' looked terrified. They didn't have any extra magazines. Their rifles would be almost useless in close quarter combat. They were all so young.
The B.S.A.A. had no idea what they were doing, and they didn't want anyone to know.
But, with no other choice, they allowed the soldiers push them trough the halls. Chris absentmindedly studied the soldier closest to him. His name tag read 'John Cell'. Blood type O. Age 21. It took a surprising amount of self control to stop himself from cursing at the British lady.
They reached a stairwell, with a large iron gate blocking the second story. A map hung on the wall, which Chris took, and none of the soldiers commented on. According to the map, the first floor was for the common soldiers, first aid, and emergencies, if they ever arose. The second story was for any infected that might be cured and research on viruses. The third story was for long term care; for those in comas.
As he pocketed the map, Chris watched as the soldiers went through an absurd amount of locks to get the gate open. One entered a passcode, another a handprint, another a rental scan, and so on. Chris couldn't tell if the process was designed to test someone's patience, or if he was just stressed. Judging by the soldier's silent groans, he assumed it was the former. But finally, the gate unlocked with a clang, and slowly slid open.
Sherry gripped his hand tightly. She looked worried, wether it was for Piers, Jake, or him- or all of them- he couldn't tell.
Where the first story was styled like a normal hospital, with mostly browns and beiges, the second story was completely white: with white tiles, white walls, and bright LED lights. There were numerous air vents along the ceiling, each equipped with a locking mechanism. Up and down the walls, there were tubing connecting different containers to a sprinkler system. There were no windows, no decorations, just a sea of white.
All in all, not his favorite place.
All of the hospital rooms were locked and barred, with a camera pointing to each and every one of them. From the lights attached to them, though, he could tell that only one or two were actually active. As their group approached room 203, Chris noticed that the door had at least three more locks, and the ever-present camera had a gatling gun attached to it.
Sherry squeezed his hand tighter as the guards slowly unlocked the door. They watched as they slowly pushed the heavy obstacle aside, and hastily took a step forward. The guards parted like the Red Sea, providing no resistance. Jake was on the other side.
Chris didn't like Jake. He looked and acted too much like Wesker. The eagle eyes, the sense of superiority… But still, he couldn't help but feel pity seeing Jake like this. With bags the size of coffee mugs under his eyes. His face was stony, his whole body covered in a random assortment of scars and bruises. He just looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. They all probably looked like that.
Wordlessly, Sherry dropped Chris's hand and engulfed Jake in a hug. His hands clutched loosely at her clothes as Sherry's sobs filled the hallway.
After a minute, she backed away, but didn't let go. She just gently pulled him out of the doorway so Chris could walk in. Chris's breath caught in his throat.
…
"Oh, god. Piers."
As soon as he saw the man, still asleep on the bed in front of him, Chris felt those horrible words escape his mouth. Even though Piers was never all that tan, his skin looked white under the hotel's sterile, paper, poor excuse for a blanket. His torn and bloodied B.S.A.A. uniform had been replaced with a hospital gown. His patchwork of scars were blood-red in stark contrast against all that white. He was hooked up to three separate machines, each keeping track of a different thing. His breathing could be heard across the room, rasping.
Jake broke away from Sherry's half hug, but still had a tight grip on her hand. He took a step towards Chris.
"He's been like this for hours, on and off." He stated, not meeting Chris's gaze. "Doctors won't say what's wrong. I think… he doesn't want to get up."
Chris took a knee next to his bed. He softly griped his shoulder. "Come on. Don't leave me here alone again." He squeezed his eyes shut to shut back his sorrow. "God knows I wouldn't be able to take it."
In response, all the lights in the room went out. One of the machines connected to Piers gave let out a final warble, but that just ended up dying, too. However, each crack in his skin was lit up by a throbbing blue glow. It seemed like electricity was being carried throughout all of his body, but it was only visible in those scars. But eventually, that light started to fade.
His breathing quieted, and he started twitching. His eyelids peeled open.
Slowly, Piers opened his mouth. "C-captain? What- what happened? You're alive? I'm alive? Where-" He suddenly jolted up and tightly grabbed his shoulder. "No no no no! Goddamn, crap, shit-"
"Piers! Calm down!" Chris commanded, grabbing his scalding-hot shoulders. "Breathe. Don't pass out now. You're fine. You're not infected. Just breathe, soldier."
Piers was shaking violently, but he focused his eyes on Chris.
"S-sorry sir. I… I just can't, can't-" His shoulders slacked. "I can't tell if I'm awake right now… if I drowned at that facility… or if im hallucinating? God- I'm so tired."
Chris pushed down lightly on his shoulders to stabilize him. "You're here. And I'm here. See?"
Sherry quietly moved behind Chris. "Thank heavens you're ok." Sherry muttered quietly, walking forward and cupping his face in her hand for a second before wrapping him in a hug. "Don't do that again." She scolded jokingly. As she pulled away, Chris saw that her arms were burnt red where she touched Piers, but the color quickly faded back to her pale skin.
Jake stood his distance, but he gave a slight nod to Piers. He gave a similar one back with a light smile.
The lights flickered on slowly, and the machines beeped on one at a time. Over the loudspeakers, a mechanical voice crackled, "Power outage on floor 2. Power outage on floor 2. Cameras and defenses are active. Do not attempt to leave your rooms."
Chris stood up from beside the bed, but kept a hand on Piers's shoulder, who still seemed rather woozy. "I guess you'd better get more rest. I don't think you're ready to leave the bed yet."
Piers nodded quietly. "S-sure. But… am I ok? I- I can't really feel… most of me? My eye… my arm… God, my head..." He sighed deeply, before his head jerked back, and he quickly passed out.