Heaven Can Wait

Kasage Starrunner

Disclaimer: Resident Evil and all characters, settings, monsters, and corporations associated with the game series and the movie are © Capcom and its affiliates. The author has no association with any of these companies.

All other characters and creations are © Kasage Starrunner. The author would like to note that Petra Cross, (Jo Sullivan, possibly) and Adrian Rhoades are part of a joint game project with her and friends, and that Petra will also be used in a collaborative mange started by Mangaworkshop.net. Also, the character Alex Quenby is based on her character, Quenby Andries from the Infinite Spiral Manga saga. Other character associations will be mentioned as necessary.

Also, feel free to correct my Resident Evil knowledge. I want to be accurate. Suggestions on that account are encouraged.

Author's Notes are available after the chapter.

A Cast List will shortly be available at my site, Let Me Live::

http://geocities.com/lukleia/claire.html

Warnings: Violence (as typical for Resident Evil), profanity (the worst namely on the part of Petra)--more warnings will be added if necessary.

Chapter Two: Midfield Valley





Hotel, Undisclosed Location



"There was a friendly, but naive King

Who wed a very nasty Queen.

The King was loved

And the Queen was feared.

"Then one day while strolling with his court

An arrow pierced the kind King's heart.

He lost his life

And his lady love."

Claire sat up in the narrow hotel bed, breathing heavily. She looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 10:00 am and she had only been asleep for three hours. The woman rubbed her temple, trying to alleviate a headache that tried to warn her she needed more sleep. Had it only been four and a half hours since they landed? She rolled over. Chris was still asleep in the other bed, arm twisted under the pillow he had pulled practically down to his chest. The S.T.A.R.S. uniform was still on hom. How long had it been since that thing had been washed?

She shook her head and got out of bed. The red-head knew how long it had been since she had gotten a shower--too long. Time to get clean. Claire locked the door to the bathroom and slipped out of her soiled clothes, trying not to think that she would only have to put the dirty things back on again. She hopped into the shower, and as the hot water washed away the grime she tried let her troubles wash away with it. Scrubbing her face and hair she wanted to shut of her brain, knowing that thinking would only bring images of pain and sorrow. She hoped the pain would wash away with the dirt and dead skin, but it didn't, so she tried to think of the water instead.

It was a good thing to think about, as it was the exact opposite of Anarctica--Hot!

When Claire finished and dried off she put her clothes back on, leaving off the vest. Chris was now awake, and watched her as she touseled her loose, wet hair with a towel. She laid the vest on the back of a chair and smiled. "I feel clean--er."

Chris laughed--it had been a long time since he'd done that. "I bet those cloths need washed."

Claire looked down at the dirt spots on her vest and jeans. "No kidding. Too bad I lost my spare clothes."

Chris nodded. The same was true for him, but there was no need to state the already obvious. Well, thanks to the hotel he found out that his credit card at least was still active, despite his bank account being frozen. Something told him that his sister wouldn't complain about a side-trip to buy clothes. Then she could wash her favorites. He, personally, didn't really care whether he ever saw the damned S.T.A.R.S. uniform again.

"I made coffee," he said, pointing at the hotel-supplied mini-coffee maker.

"Thanks." She poured half a cup and sipped at it, thoughtfully.

The brunette man pulled out a half empty pack of cigarettes. "Can I bum the lighter back for a second.

Claire glared at him, holding a hand to the pocket where she kept the newly returned lighter. It reminded her of Rodrigo. Biting her lip she pushed the thought away and glared more intently at her brother. "You told me you quit."

"Things got stressful."

"That's no excuse, you promised me you'd quit!" The red-head snatched the carton from her brother's hands.

"Hey, give those back, Claire."

"They're bad for you."

"Stress is bad for you too. Besides, I'll just buy another pack."

Claire chewed on the lip she was already biting, but conceded, handing Chris both the cigarettes and the lighter. "My only condition is you smoke outside. I don't want to share carcinigins."

"Fine by me. I'll be back in 10 minutes," he said and slipped out of the room. Claire looked coldly after him.

"I can't believe he didn't quit."

***

Midfield Valley, Ohio, USA

The city of Midfield Valley was an international community founded by the Umbrella Corporation in the flat, glacial plains of the Mid-Ohio Valley. After the collapse of a local corporate farm, the larger monopoly moved in, easily able to out buy the local farmers in the State Auction. In the end, Umbrella had bought the fields and farms around it, and the original town itself, reconstructing it to its own standards. About the only thing left of the original structures was a few old townshouses, the local Methodist and Catholic churches, and a horse farm and mansion built by the former own of the corporate farm. That mansion was the prize of the Davenport family, who preferred to own the mansion rather than live there regularly.

From the plane above the city, Alex could see the farms and empty hills to the north, east, and south of the city. Columbus and its suburbs ended to the west and southwest, but the rest was clear area for growth--or a clear path to prevent metropolitan destruction. The woman knew that Umbrella preferred secluded locations for its most dangerous projects, but this nowhere county in the middle of Ohio was ridiculous.

She supposed her situation with the Corporation could be worse, but at the moment she couldn't think of how. On their descent into the private airfield she gave her new second-in-command a poke.

"Jo, you really went to college here? Its a cowtown."

"No, Columbus is a cowtown, and yes, I went to school here. What I couldn't take at the University, I finished at the Branch during the summer."

"Branch?"

"Ohio State University--Newark Campus. There's another cowtown for you."

"Ah ... Why not the main branch?"

"Umbrella wouldn't fund it. I guess the main branch cares too much for football."

Alex cackled. "Umbrella doesn't like to compete for attention."

"They'd be in Columbus, otherwise."

"God, we're a long way from Paris."

"No kidding."

The landing gear skidded on the runway and the two women adjusted themselves in their seats. The blonde stared vaguely at the wall and began muttering to herself. "I don't see why they even need a S.T.A.R.S. team here, there's nothing for miles."

"Gosh, Alex, there are people who live here! And ever since the incident people are begging for Umbrella to give them security. Besides, a large portion of the Corporation's activity in the Eastern half of the U.S. starts right here in Midfield Valley. Who knows what's going on in this 'cowtown'."

"I have a good idea."

"The University practically encourages it."

"I guess you have a point."

"Thankyou. In my opinion Umbrella should love out of the way places like these, if they don't already have a base in the Sahara."

"You have no idea."

"What? Well don't complain, it prevents the contamination of innocent civilians."

The plane taxied to a stop as the two of them stared at each other. 'She actually thinks Umbrella wants to prevent the population? She's more naive then I thought. That or extremely mislead.' She had a guess what caused that. The damned University.

The taller woman unhooked her saftely belt, running a hand through her short blonde hair before she picked up the backpack that contained everything she actually cared about. "Come on, JO, let's go."

"You're a poet and you don-"

Alex glared at her, and the bouncy brunette cut the remark short. "Let's move, I want to get a tour of this city before I make any first impressions."

***

Undisclosed Location



Petra groaned and stretched as she regained consciousness for the first time since she'd blacked out at the bottom of the steps in Antarctica. A bright light shone in her eyes from the ceiling and worsened her already blurry vision. Her contacts were dry and moved on top of her eyes as she attempted to see what was around her. She blinked a few times to rewet them. The woman's focus faded in and out, but here and there she caught snatches of conversation from over her head.

"Can you get an I.D. on her?"

"Student--says M.V.U.--plus an Umbrella logo. Must be Midfield Valley."

"Looks like a local punk--nosing where she shouldn't."

" ... Redfields."

"Keep her under monitoring."

"No, send her home to court."

"With an Umbrella official?"

"Yeah, that frost-bite might be a lesson well learned."

Her consciousness faded again after that and it wasn't until an hour later that she woke up. A humming sound surrounded her and she couldn't move. It took her a few minutes to realise that this was because she was strapped down. Once this was discovered, she began clenching and unclenching her fist--afraid the circulation would go thanks to the tight bindings. Feeling eyes on her, she tried to look around, stretching her eyes and neck backwards.

"Who the fuck are you?" she spat.

"Such language for a lady."

The woman jumped, afraid it was the blond haired man she ahd seen before losing consciousness in the first place. She squinted to see better, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was a fairly natural looking thirty year old.

"Who are you?" she asked, now biting back her temper.

"I should ask the same of you, Petra Cross."

"You know my name. That's all you need to know." She wrinkled her nose and fought at the straps a little. When they wouldn't budge, she stopped.

"Your I.D. says you have three family members, your mother, father and brother. Where are they?"

The student examined the man once more before she answered the question. Umbrella logo-God she must be in deep. And all she had wanted to do was go on vacation. The green-haired youth searched the room again, but there was no sign of the blond man in black with the glinting red eyes. Maybe he was a hallucination ...

"Our plane crashed. They died."

The man raised an eyebrow at her.

"Dad had a private license. We were going on vacation--land hopping from Ohio to Australia. Mom, Dad, and Patrick were all employees of your Corporation--it was a fully funded vacation. Something knocked us off course and we crashed in Antarctica. I should be dead, dammit, but I'm not. Need to know any other details?"

"Did you see anything you shouldn't have?"

"Nothing that wasn't all over the 6 O'clock news after Raccoon City," she lied smoothly. She had seen the creature hanging from a crane in a straght jacket, not to mention that odd mansion, but wasn't about to tell the man that. Besides, he seemed to believe her not to be a threat--just a cold, crash landed college student.

The man sat silent for a moment in though, as though he had something else to say. It came to him eventually, and then he spoke again. "You're lucky that you're not contaminated, or you'd be spending your miserable life with us."

"Thanks for the concern, but as my parents would have had it, I'll already be doing that, I'm sure." She looked around the room again. "I can't see very well in here. Where's the boy?"

"What boy?" The man was startled. He really wasn't expecting this question.

"The boy who came in with me."

"There was no boy."

"There was this dead boy. I wasn't about to leave him to rot in snow or become one of your damned zombies, now where is he."

"There was no boy."

The woman went silent. Something strange was going on. Somewhere between Antarctica and where she was now, the body she had rescued from a fate worse than death disappeared. Something told her this wasn't the first person given charge over her.

The man pushed some brown hair from his forehead and jotted a note onto something she couldn't see. "You will be returned to Midfield Valley, Miss Cross. Do not leave town, other representatives will be in touch with you shortly. If the plane crash is verified no other action will be taken against you by the Corporation, other than the visits mentioned. If it is not ... There will be Hell to pay."

Petra felt her stomach sink inside her. She had a nagging suspicion that the wrecked plane would never be found.

***



Midfield Valley, Ohio



"So tell me again why you went to school here?" The blonde and the brunette walked briskly down the sidewalk together, getting a feel for the corporate city.

"I told you, Alex, Umbrella fully funded my education."

"But you didn't grow up here."

"No ..." She tapped her fingers together as though she had more to say.

"What?"

Jo jumped a bit and looked at the blue eyed woman. "You know, we never talk about you. Tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell."

Two people walked by and Alex watched them closely. They were a male and a female, a few years apart in age, covered from head to toe in dirt, except for their faces. The man was tall and the jumpsuit reminded her almost too much of a S.T.A.R.S. uniform. The line of his face was even familiar, just like his haircut. Then there was the woman--about 19, blue eyes, blue jeans, red hair, red vest, Red-"

"Whatcha looking at?"

Alex growled a little at the interruption. Her train of thought lost, she turned back to Jo. "Do they seem funny to you?"

Jo glanced over at them and shook her head. "Probably college kids--they are a little familiar, though." She reached into her bad and pulled out a can of soda. When Alex spied the lable she rolled her eyes.

"Not this again."

"But the Chemistry lab is only two blocks away!"

***

Claire eyed the can her brother was drinking from suspiciously. "Doesn't it ever worry you that there's such a thing as Cola by Umbrella?"

Chris blinked at his sister, then at the can. "It tastes safe to me." He continued to drink it as he walked down the street. Claire paused for a moment and looked behind her. "What is it, sis?"

"I think that guy is watching us." The red-head jerked her ponytail in the direction of where a tall blonde was standing with a much shorter sable-haired young woman. They seemed to be arguing over a can of soda.

"Let's keep walking then. Look, there's a Lazarus. Do you want-"

Claire ducked into the double glass doors before he could finish.

"Someone wants out of those clothes," he mumbled.

***

"Jo, you can test the damned beverage later. I want to find ou-" She looked around. "They're gone."

"We'll see them again."

"No ... there was something important to it. I had something. Its right back where I can-"

"Brain fart."

"Thanks." The blonde's gaze followed her partner's arm as she restowed the soda. "And thanks for that as well."

"Just because I put it away doesn't mean that I trust it."

"Duly noted, just don't do that during training."

"Duh ..." Jo's brown eyes darted around. "Where to now?"

"Picking up uniforms, which we shall drop off at our headquarters. From there I will get dressed and find all the "low" places in town."

"What about me?"

"Do whatever you want, just be back at the H.Q. by 4:00pm."



***

Umbrella Headquarters, Paris, France



Valeris sat at his mahogany desk watching the security video of an internal outbreak from weeks ago. They sent Alex Quenby to sub-floor 149 fairly unprepared for what she would find there. Apparantly, the Licker monster had made such a snack of the security team that it had evolved several times further than previously documented by Umbrella's scientific staff. Alex herself had only been equipped with a Glock and a combat knife--though this was because of her "trainee" status. Despite this, out of the three people sent in with her, the tall blond woman was the only one who made it out of the locked down sub-floor alive.

And she had come out contaminated.

The monster charged at the woman on the screen. She charged back at it, stabbing it in the abdomen several times while aiming blindly for its head with the handgun. Her mouth came open as though she were shouting as the claws raked over her back and around her side. Staggering, angry, and frustrated, the blonde checked her gun and aimed one last time. The tape ended there.

Valeris drummed his fingers across the desk worriedly. He always winced when the claws dug into Alex's skin. He never would be able to believe that she killed that thing single handedly with an automatic weapon or a miracle. And then there was the T-virus.

Everyone, medical staff and room-mates included knew that the woman called Alex Quenby should be dead or behind glass. Now she was virus-free and heading to Ohio.

He rewound the tape and watched it all again. Miss Quenby really was a suicidal thing. The old man wondered if the medical team had come up with an explaination yet. Potential buyers were counting on that information. He knew for a fact that the genetic team had come up with nothing yet--they were still sequencing her DNA--hoping for some magic anomaly. Valeris wondered if he could get his hands on the second tape--the one with the Tyrant in C-block.

The phone on the thin-haired man's desk beeped. He checked the line and smiled. "Hello, Dr. Fujimoto ... Genki desu, arigatou. And you? ... Excellent--now tell me about these tissue samples."

***

Hotel, Midfield Valley



When Claire and Chris got back from their shopping excursion, the first thing Claire did was take another shower. Chris didn't see why anyone would actually want to take two showers in one day, but he figured that it had something to do with her new and more importantly clean clothes.

While she was in the bathroom, he smoked another cigarette. She really couldn't complain at him while she was in the shower--it was a smoking room anyways. He watched the thin tendrils of smoke rise to the ceiling as he exhaled, lazily dreaming of better days. The brunette propped his feet up on the desk and leaned back in the chair.

"You said you'd smoke outside."

The man broke out of his daydreaming, and, bolting upright fell to the floor--chair and all. His legs entangled themselves with the chair's as he was caught in the acy. Chris tried desperately to escape the sudden, frigid gaze of his sister as she bent over him, red heair dripping on the floor. He clenched the cigarette in his teeth.

"You wah inda showah," he said in the caught-smoking tongue.

"Put it out Christophen Michael Refield!"

The brunette detangled himself from the chair, secretly vowing to get Claire back for scaring the shit out of him. She didn't even offer to help him up as he stood and put out the cigarette. It went out with a mournful puff.

His sister picked up the towel she had dropped and began drying her hair for the second time that day. "Now I feel really clean." She definitely looked better. The green, ribbed tank top and fitted black pants made her look human again, instead of like "The Creature from the Black Lagoon." The red-head stole her belt from her soiled jeans and buckled it, snapping her biker gloves back on soon afterward. The old cloths she began to throw in a pile.

"When you're clean, put that disgusting uniform with these. I'll wash it all in a few days." She picked up her pants, using her thumb and forefinger like tweezers. "--if not this afternoon."

She finished toweling her head dry and then crawled into bed, leaving her hair loose on the pillow. The blue eyed brother blinked, but assumed she was taking a nap. It sounded like an excellent idea, and one he would copy after taking a shower of his own.

TBC in Chapter 3.



Authors Notes:

I do not smoke--but many of my relatives do.

Lazarus is a department store (in case you've never heard of it).

Midfield Valley, Ohio:

Midfield Valley is based off of what I'm afraid could one day happen to the area where I grew up, in Croton, OH. For the longest time the town was filled with Corporate Egg Farms--Buckeye Egg Farms, run by Anton Pohlman. He built a mansion and horsebarn near the tiny area that actually is the town. However, the EPA just shut them down (and believe me, we've been waiting), and is auctioning off the land. The mansion was bought by, we believe, some undisclosed Hollywood actor/tress. As to the rest of it, who knows. We're bordered by New Albany, which was rebuilt by Wexner as an upscale town. We don't know what will happen here.

Why did I use it? Because I know the weather and the area. It involves no research to be realstic, and I do try to be accurate, so don't flame me for rewriting Croton. That's why this note is here.