So I changed the chapter title after all. Enjoy.
Chapter Four: A World Below
"Eyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" He screamed in total fury, driving his boot into the control panel. Pulling it back quickly, he hurled with all his power his boot into the structure, connecting with the sounds of plastic breaking and the pounding of metal.
"Fuck…you!" the former S.T.A.R.S. officer yelled before he gave another swift kick to the panel, this time sending sparks flying, the sounds of destruction a music to his ears. Losing all sense of reason, he stood there kicking the dead panel, sending up a shower of sparks with each blow. Pissed was an understatement. Livid was more accurate. Fearing the worst, the possible notion that Barry may have overdone it and went down with the city upon escaping, sent rage coursing through his veins. After a few minutes of anger release, he slumped back into a chair, looking at the smoking soundboard. It, like the city, was dead. At the initial detonation, radio contact was lost on all channels. Nothing was getting in or out of the city. Nothing would be getting in or out of the city, save for maybe Umbrella's cleanup crews, probably already working as we speak.
He leaned forward, his tired head sinking into his hands.
Fuck…
He suddenly felt an emptiness in him, a huge void in his heart. The immediate, untimely, and sudden death of over one hundred thousand people weighed heavily on his mind. Suddenly the lights went out, leaving Chris in darkness, except for the slowly increasing daylight filtering in from the outside world.
"Are we all okay?" Barry's voice boomed over the noise of the whirring helicopter blades.
"Yeah, just shaken," Jill answered, her voice tired.
"All fine here," the mercenary said, resting his head on Jill's shoulder. The copter flew just directly over the lonely road. A road that was once the main artery leading to and from Raccoon City was now desolate, not a car to be seen. A once busy highway was empty, devoid of all life. Straight ahead on the horizon, the Sun was almost fully visible, the warm sunlight shining through the helicopter, warm on Jill's face. Her body was aching, feeling like every muscle, joint, and bone was aching. The sudden adrenaline drop was followed by an immense urge to just sleep, sleep, sleep and not wake up for a very long time. She wanted to put all of this behind her for good—the Spencer estate, the events following, being chased all around by several of Umbrella's freaks (human and B.O.W. alike), the complete totaling of her once proud city. Every cell in her body screamed for a recharge. She leaned her head back on the seat, and as uncomfortable as it was, she didn't care—she could fall asleep on anything at this point. The warm soft glow of the sunlight only helped to tire her more, and as she stared up at the pale gray metallic ceiling, she felt her eyelids begin to get heavy and her vision began to blur.
Must stay awake…
But you know you want to.
But…
No buts…give in to what your body is asking for.
Okay, fine. You win.
Told you I would.
But do I really have to?
Yes. You're needing it.
If you say so. Nighty night.
Nighty night.
She was rudely awakened out of the brief nap when the helicopter suddenly pitched downward, indicating a drop in altitude.
"What? Where am I?" Jill said frantically before realizing she was still on the helicopter.
Barry chuckled. "Still safe with me. I found the spot, and I'm gonna land this bird."
"Great." She looked to her left only to be greeted by a sleeping Carlos, his head resting softly on her bare shoulder, breathing softly.
Aww…
She nudged him ever so gently, and he finally stirred. He moved his head slowly, his mind still sleeping. He turned his head slowly so that his brown eyes met hers, his eyes bloodshot from a combination of stress, fatigue, and sleep deprivation.
"Where are we?" He said drowsily.
Jill chuckled. "We're about to land. You're going to meet another one of our comrades."
"Cool." He yawned.
* * *
At the sound of an approaching helicopter, he lifted his head out of his hands, a feeling of hope and possibility taking the place of despair, failure, and general hopelessness.
Barry?
Slowly rising, he shielded his eyes from the sudden flash of blinding sunlight. Moving out of the direct sunlight, he rubbed his eyes and then walked out of the dead radio communication room. The sound of spinning chopper blades grew louder. Once again, he stepped over the broken glass. Once again he opened the door to the surreal outside world. Chris was hit with a wave of spinning air, and squinting his eyes, he saw the chopper approaching the empty highway, coming in for a landing.
Thank you. Thank you, God.
Dirt was flying up all around Chris, swirling, moving in a large circle parallel to the spinning helicopter blades. Shielding his face from any sort of flying debris, he watched as the gray aircraft slowly reduced its speed, its altitude dropping. Softly, Barry landed the bird, and killed the engines. As quickly as it came, the spinning winds began to decline, and as Chris lowered his arm he saw the burly frame of Barry Burton emerge from the pilot's seat.
"Chris," Barry said, walking toward the relieved Redfield. "Glad to see you're alive," he said, before the two embraced.
"I'd thought I'd never be so glad to see you," a female voice said. Looking up, Chris saw a sexy looking Jill hopping out of the cockpit, her blue tube top and black miniskirt stained with dirt. She took her gray sweater that she had tied around her waist and quickly put it on. She walked quickly over to Chris and hugged him, and felt a wave of relief wash over her, the feeling of a warm body confirming that she was alive, and there was at least one other survivor, one more person that could say "fuck you" to Umbrella.
"I'm so glad you're here," Chris said, the words finally coming to him. He looked at the cockpit to see one more person climb out, this person unfamiliar to him. This person walked toward the group of three S.T.A.R.S, and Chris noted the logo of Umbrella on his vest.
"Carlos Oliviera, former member of the U.B.C.S." he said, Chris noticing the slight Hispanic accent. He held out his hand and Chris responded with a warm handshake.
"Chris Redfield, Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S." He smiled.
Barry gave a look of curiosity. "U.B.C.S.?"
"Umbrella Bio-Hazard Countermeasure Service, hired mercenaries and ex-military." Carlos said.
"Fancy title for a group of guinea pigs for Umbrella's research," Chris said snidely.
"You could say that," Carlos said, letting out a nervous chuckle.
"Amazing what Umbrella will do for its cause," Barry said.
"I had no idea what I was in for," Carlos began. "I was lured to this by the promise of a significant pay. That's a mercenary's life." Carlos sighed. "It's a pleasure to meet the two of you."
"Shall we go inside?" Chris said after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Yeah," Jill said, obviously interested. I'm interested to see what they left here."
"I was surprised myself. The outside of the building looks run down, but mostly everything is intact. Whoever was in here left recently."
"Let's go," Barry said. The four of them walked to the entrance, and Jill noticed the broken glass door lying in shards everywhere.
"What happened here?"
"Oh. My doing," Chris said casually. "I couldn't unlock the door from the inside, could I?" Carlos laughed.
"A bullet would have done the same thing," Carlos added.
"I was angry. Besides, a bullet takes all the fun out of it." Hearing the sounds of crunching glass beneath the four survivors, Chris led them to the radio communications room. They were greeted by a display of sparks from the busted soundboard, still releasing a small stream of smoke. Over by Barry's feet was a demolished headset, looking like it took a few bullets.
"Let me guess. Your doing?" Barry asked jokingly. Chris grinned.
"This place is a mess," Carlos was the first to speak, noticing the papers strewn about carelessly.
"You were right, Chris," Barry said. "Whoever was here wanted out in a hurry."
"That's all this room was for? Radio communication?" Jill asked.
"Apparently so. However, I didn't get to check out what's below this building," Chris replied.
"Below?" Barry asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. There's a staircase heading
to a room below just after the entrance."
"I don't know if I want to
know," Jill said skeptically. After all that the four went through, they didn't
want to encounter any more of Umbrella's creations. Enough was enough.
Chris immediately knew what Jill was thinking, and he agreed. "But why would Umbrella have some zombies here? Or even a lab? On a highway such as this?"
"You never know with Umbrella," Barry answered. "Let's check it out."
The four of them left in single file, Chris leading the way. Looking down the staircase, he saw darkness. Next to the stairwell, he saw a light switch, and flicked it. Nothing.
"Be careful. It's dark down here. I'll lead." Chris pulled out his lighter and flipped back the top, igniting a small bright orange flame. Slowly, he proceeded cautiously down the stairwell, his heart beating faster. Still in single file, the other three followed the guiding light of Chris' lighter. When they reached bottom, they met with a door sporting the Umbrella logo. He passed the firelight over the logo to see what the room was. He found no words—just the logo. With his one free hand, he slowly reached for the Beretta, the S.T.A.R.S. standard issue firearm. Behind him, he could hear the cocking sounds of three other guns: Jill's Beretta, Barry's Colt Python, and Carlos' semi-automatic. Quietly, he closed the lighter, smothering the flame. They were left in a surrounding darkness once again. With his gun raised, he placed one sweaty hand on the doorknob. Chris turned to the three behind him.
"Ready?" he asked in a hushed whisper. The three responded with quick nods. Suddenly in one quick movement, he opened the door and the three rushed into the new room, guns drawn and ready to fire at anything that moved—
--when suddenly the room filled with white florescent light. The lighting system was designed to turn on when a motion detector sensed someone's entry into the room. Breathing heavily, the four looked at the new room. It was a small enclosure, the walls still looking that drab white. Set up along the walls were several computer terminals. All the monitors were broken, apparently filled with bullet holes. However, one of them was on and working. In the center of the room stood an oval table, with several office chairs around it. Coffee mugs sat on the table, and the floor was similar to the radio room, papers strewn about everywhere. On the table stood a single sheet of paper. Directly ahead of them stood another door. To its right was a closet, its handles bound with chain and lock. To its left, another closet, but apparently unlocked.
"Guns down, everyone," Chris ordered. "Nothing happening here. We should spread out." Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the four brought their weapons down and spread out to search the room. Jill went for the locked closet, her curiosity peaked as she wanted to know what lay beyond the confines of the doors. Barry headed for the unlocked closet. Carlos checked the room further. He looked at the mugs on the table, noticing its contents, mostly coffee. Placing a finger in, he picked up a clue.
It's still a little warm. Whatever happened here, it took place very recently.
"Hey, guys?"
"Yeah, Carlos?" came Barry from the other end of the room.
"Whatever happened here only took place a little while ago, my guess maybe an hour or two ago at best."
"What brings you to that idea?" Jill asked.
"Coffee's still warm," Carlos answered casually.
"Aha," Barry said, opening the unlocked closet.
"Anything interesting?" Chris asked.
"An envelope. That's it," Barry said, sounding a little disappointed. He pulled out an 8x11 yellow envelope, opened the clasp and peered inside. He pulled out a sheet of paper. He analyzed it for a few seconds.
"Hmm…something scared whoever was here to make them leave quickly," Carlos asked.
"And now we know what it is," Barry said.
"What?" Carlos asked.
"Apparently the people here got an advanced warning on the imminent destruction of the city. They were advised to get out quick, for there could have been a possibility that they could have been in the blast zone."
"Seems as good a reason to get out quick. Luckily this place wasn't in the blast zone, otherwise we wouldn't be here. Anything else?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, one other piece of paper which gives a password to the computer system. You might make some use out of it." Barry gave Chris the paper. Taking a look, the paper just a few typed lines.
To all supervisors:
The password has been changed for entry into "Classified Info." The new password is "Marcus."
Chris took a seat at the computer terminal, only to find a blank white screen with some words in black.
Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Network Version 3.1
You are logged in as user: Ginovaef, Nicholai.
Select an option:
1) Documents
2) E-mail
3) Umbrella Bio-Hazard Countermeasure Service
4) Classified Info
Chris pressed "4."
Please enter your password, Nicholai.
Chris typed in "Marcus." He got a confirming sound. A new menu came up.
Umbrella Pharmaceuticals: Classified InfoUser: Ginovaef, Nicholai.
Rank: Supervisor
Select your Classified file:
1) Operation Watchdog (NEW!)
2) Information on G-Virus
3) Treatment of B.O.W's
The first choice seemed to peak Chris' interest more, so he typed in "1." In no time, the document "Operation Watchdog" appeared. And so he read:
To: All Supervisors
From: "Watchdog"
Subject: Operation Watchdog
In 2 days time, Operation Watchdog will proceed as planned. When we deploy the Umbrella Bio-Hazard Countermeasure Service squads into the Raccoon City area, the ten supervisors will be set up in ten locations in the city to report combat data to us. While the U.B.C.S. is, on the surface, an army designed to combat the humanoid results of the T-Virus, they are also experimental specimens. It is expected that many will die within the initial period of the attack, for the virus carriers outnumber the combined forces of the Raccoon City Police Department and the U.B.C.S. Since we know this, we want to take this opportunity to take live combat data. In the midst of the fray, we will also be releasing two of our Tyrant Class B.O.W's; one named Nemesis, and the other named "Mr. X." The function of these two B.O.W's are as follows: Nemesis is designed to search and destroy any of the remaining Special Tactics and Rescue Squad members we know are still alive: Barry Burton, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, and Brad Vickers. If any of the supervisors see them, shoot them on sight. "Mr. X" has been created to find Dr. William Birkin's creation of the "G" virus, a virus yet untested by our scientists. Beware—both of these Tyrants are very dangerous and will kill. Tomorrow you shall attend a meeting on how to keep safe from the Tyrants. The ten supervisors will be placed in ten locations throughout the city. From these ten locations, we expect reports every hour from the time you confirm your arrival at said location. Locations of the ten supervisors:
1) Ted Martin, Detective Squad room, RPD East Wing
2) Janice Thomlinson—Underground Lab
3) Davis Chan—Sales Office
4) Nicholai Ginovaef—Clock Tower
5) Tyrell Patrick—Raccoon Hospital
6) Ken Franklin—Radio Room, Cemetery
7) Terrence Foster—Disposal Facility
8) Mitch Hirami—Clock Tower
9) Frank Dolan—Clock Tower
10) Brian Irons—Chief's Office, RPD
Each one of you will be given a special encryption code to make your reports from these locations. The encryption code is to ensure your identity and your current location. Some of you will have laptop status, meaning that you can send us your reports from laptops we provide, and you can send us your reports from anywhere in the city. The information you collect will be of the utmost importance, for as you know, we are looking for data on the T-Virus carriers (human and otherwise) and how they fare against trained soldiers, the real reason we are sending the U.B.C.S. into the combat zone. We are counting on you. This is classified, which means that if anyone else finds out about this exercise, shoot them on sight. You have 2 days to prepare.
END OF MESSAGE
Transmission sent from Umbrella H.Q., Raccoon City branch.
Outside, a helicopter was flying overhead.
"Hey, guys…I think you should look at this," Chris said, pleased at his latest discovery. Jill had already managed to pick one of the two locks on the closet when she walked over to see what Chris had found, Barry and Carlos included.
"More proof to see how warped and twisted Umbrella actually is," Chris said, a hint of disgust in his voice. As soon as Jill saw the screen, her eyes widened in surprise, as did Carlos. Both of them knew exactly what each other thought, and they silently exchanged looks. The twisted madman that almost killed them both was still running loose.
User: Ginovaef, Nicholai.
Carlos' mind instantly flashed back to the scene in the hospital, when he saw Nicholai shoot the officer in one of the basement labs, confirming his suspicion that Nicholai, in fact, was not the person that he presented himself as, a squad leader of the Umbrella Bio-Hazard Countermeasure Service, but a cold-hearted murderer bent on accomplishing his own objectives, whatever they happened to be. He remembered seeing the fallen soldier, blood coursing from the bullet wounds Nicholai inflicted, seeing the pained but determined expression as he sat in his own fluid; seeing Ken Franklin (Carlos didn't know his name) reaching into his vest and pulling out a grenade while Nicholai was pulling smooth-talk to Carlos, watching as he pulled the ring. He watched in open-mouthed horror as Franklin screamed the word, "DIE!" before the small lab exploded in a flash of blinding light, seeing Nicholai dive out of the closed window just as the light and explosion grew too bright to see.
He shook his head quickly in an attempt to get the image out of his head.
"Something wrong?" Barry asked.
"No…it's nothing," Carlos quickly replied.
After a few minutes of silence while they read the classified message, Barry spoke up first.
"Sick freaks," he said in disgust.
"Sick is an understatement," Chris added. "Now we know this, but what do we do with it?"
"Probably nothing—" Jill said when she was abruptly cut off as all power suddenly went out. They were left in total darkness.
Alert, Carlos looked quickly around him. In the middle of the all-encompassing darkness, the familiar firelight of Chris' lighter appeared.
"A blackout," Barry said. Stating the obvious was one of peculiar traits.
"Probably a blown fuse or the backup power finally gave out," Chris said. That idea was quickly dashed when suddenly the four of them heard an explosion coming from outside, and the first thought that came across Barry's mind was that the explosion was an ultimatum of sorts. Through the closed door they heard sounds of footsteps entering the building a floor up. Simultaneously, the four of them had guns drawn, locked and loaded, all of them aiming for the door. They could hear the sounds of footsteps overhead, hearing the faint sounds of voices as they moved quickly upstairs. Chris immediately put his lighter out, and aimed his Beretta at the closed door, ready to open fire on the first thing he saw.
Umbrella's come to finish the job at last. We're ready for you. You want a piece of us?
The four heard the sounds of several sets of footsteps cautiously making their way down the stairs, about to enter the room. Then there was silence on both sides. A few seconds of tense quiet passed, when the door flew open, no sooner did the four see the tiny flashlight and the entrance was filled with a hail of gunfire, the four of them branching out in all directions.
Aim for the head, aim for the head!
Machine gun fire from the Umbrella soldiers, whom they could make out were masked, ripped into the computer terminals, sending showers of sparks through the room. The booming sound of Barry's Colt Python, the Magnum, almost drowned out everything else as parabellum rounds made contact with human flesh, sending down the enemy. Carlos, in a fit of either bravado, rage, or revenge ran headlong into the fray, screaming, his finger pressed firmly on the trigger, sending wave after wave of machine gun fire into the soft inner pulp of the bodies. More and more enemies came down the stairwell, releasing a maelstrom of gunfire in attempts to dispatch the survivors in the room. Jill dove underneath the oval table, now riddled with bullet holes as a bullet whizzed by her ear, and she felt the air move as the bullet just missed her. Quickly she ejected her empty clip, took a fresh one, slammed it home and continued her fire. It took maybe a total of a minute before someone, someone unknown, yelled for everyone to hold their fire. Suddenly everyone stopped, and once again a tense silence entered the room. The enemies had been mowed down. The room was filled with the acrid smell of sweat and gun smoke, the room in a hazy cloud from the multitude of gunfire. Chris rose from his kneeling position, and carefully walked toward the door, his gun still drawn. He bent down and picked up a flashlight that was dropped by one of the enemy forces. Stepping over one of the bodies that now lined the tile floor, he was stopped when he heard a moan from the enemy below. Chris quickly bent down and grabbed the soldier by the chest of his uniform, ripping his mask off him. His forehead was completely covered in blood, running in a path down his cheeks.
"Who are you?" Chris demanded angrily through gritted teeth.
No response.
"Who are you, damn it?!" Chris yelled. The soldier flashed him a grin, exposing his bloody teeth. Chris held the gun to the soldier's head.
"If you don't tell me what I want to know, then God help me—" Chris was stopped when he heard a sound of laughter coming from the soldier, followed by a cough of blood. The laugh started low, then got increasingly louder.
"You're…dead," the soldier said, raspy, letting out triumphant laughter. In a few seconds, Chris knew why when he heard the faint beeping sounds. The soldier held a countdown timer in his hand. He looked at the red numbers falling, twenty seconds left, and suddenly he knew what they had done.
Oh, God, no—
--they set up charges—
--going to explode—
His mind returned to reality when he heard Jill's voice, asking, "What?"
Ten seconds to detonation.
"Everyone, get the fuck of here NOW!"
A/N: Now I'm running out of creativity…oh, no! The road has become a little harder. However, I'm plunking away at Chapter Five. I have no title yet, but it's in the works. As always, leave me a review!