I told you Chap. 9 would be up soon! And here it is. I'm lazy, so whenever a character is about to explain some basic RE plot points, I switch to someone else's point of view, somewhere out in town. See if you know who all these "stream of consciousness" people are. Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
"There's no time!" Leon cried. "Hurry, you've got to administer the vaccine!" Brad took a few steps toward the front, holding the vaccine. He glanced behind him once more, as though it was a given the monster would be right there; he wasn't, of course. Or at least, not yet. Then he jogged forward and took the needle out of its carrying case.
Jill looked dead. He put a hand close to her mouth. "Not dead yet....." he said. "She's breathing; lightly, at least." He checked her shoulder and took a roll of bandages they'd swiped at the hospital for her out of a pocket of his kevlar vest. "Leon, rebandage her while I do this," he said, rising her arm so he could inject her with the antitoxin.
Claire wandered over to Sherry. Questions stung her whole body: Who was the man with the gun? Who had set the explosives--that same man? Would Jill be OK? What was that monster? How was Carlos doing...was he dead? What would happen to them if they survived this hell? And...she looked around....where the hell was Ada?
She heard Jill muttering something from the front of the chapel. It worked! She felt her heart leap, her eyes cool with tears of happiness. But she was too worried with speculation to be as jubilant as she could...
She watched, though, as Jill sat up groggily. "Where...?" she asked. "Oh.....chapel. Brad?" He nodded at her. "For a moment I thought you were...Chris...." He shook his head. "Naw," he said. "But Jill, we'll find him, together, after we escape. We'll find him and you can see him again..." They hugged.
Well, that was all great, Claire thought suddenly, but as she glanced at Leon she knew that something big had happened while they were away. Suddenly Carlos was running down the aisle, the doors thrown open, tripping over his own steel-toed-booted feet. He looked up, face blank with some muted emotion, but when he saw Jill his mouth curved to form a surprised and openmouthed grin. He run toward her, flinging his rifle aside, and gripped her in a tight hug. "Jill...!" He was crying and, Claire noted, so was Brad. She hadn't realised they'd all become such close friends in so short a space of time.
Claire strided softly over to Leon, letting the exuberance over Jill's survival go on beside them. She tugged at Leon's arm. "Leon...?" she asked quietly. "Ada...?" She wasn't as surprised as she might be to see his face become a mixture of hatred, scorn and anguish. "Traitor...!" he breathed through gritted teeth. "I've been there," said Jill from behind them. They turned.
"I said, 'I've been there.' Didn't Chris tell you about Wesker?" asked Jill, sitting up and staring at them. Her voice was still a little shaky, but deep again like it usually was. "He did," Claire said. "Leon---how is she a traitor?" She looked up at him.
"She said she works for...'them.' She said she got close to her 'boyfriend,' John Fay, just to obtain a G-Virus sample. She stole it from Sherry..."
"G-Virus?!" Claire moaned. "What IS that?"
"A more powerful mutigenetoxin than the T-Virus," Leon said. "Let me...explain...what I found out at the precinct with...with...HER...."
Annette had locked herself inside the small room. The S.T.A.R.S. office. She snorted. She could have gone on to the underground Umbrella complex to search for William more, but with Sherry missing...and time running out...she shrugged. She'd be dead soon, anyway.
She had already repaired the damaged radio. So, she thought, this is where Vickers and Dewey used to sit...She sighed and leaned back in an office chair. That kid...Kyle? No. Sean? No. Leon, yes Leon, that was it. He'd said Sherry had escaped the precinct with some trust-worthy woman. Maybe Sherry could escape, could be safe...
The worry ate at her guts, gnawed at them. She'd tried contacting them over the radio allready. She promised herself to use it again in another hour, to give it a try. She glanced around her, and noted absentmindedly that the picture of the team was missing from its frame. Not that she cared.
Just one hour. Than she'd use the radio again.
"G-Virus," Claire breathed, wide-eyed like a little girl. William Birkin, Sherry's FATHER, had injected himself and was now hunting down his own daughter to impregnate her with genetically mutated embyos, allowing the furthur spread of the virus. Irons with Umbrella, Bertolucci, the reported Chris had always complained about, dead...She shook her head violently. It was too much.
Jill and Brad didn't seem that phased. "So Irons is with Umbrella," Jill said. "I mean, no shit. Its like watching a B-Movie." Brad agreed, and Carlos didn't seem to care much one way or the other. Claire had to wonder if being in this environment was desensitizing them.
Suddenly Carlos stood. "I've got some lose ends to tie up," he said authoritatively, holstering his weapon again. "I've got to take care of them." "WAIT." Brad spoke sharply. "We have to tell them about Nicolai."
"You tell them," Carlos said. "I have to find him..."
"SIT!" Jill barked. Carlos sat himself on a nearby pew. "What ABOUT Nicolai?" she asked.
"We saw him at the hospital," Carlos said. "He had us at gunpoint." So that's who the man was, Claire thought. Now she knew Brad had been trying to tell her the guy's name, not "Nick will die" or "Nickle Eye" or whatever. "He survived, I guess," said Carlos. "I tried to ask him about this body lying there. He said he'd shot the guy, and that he was a 'supervisor.' He wouldn't tell me anything more, and then they-" he nodded towards Brad and Claire-"walked in." "The guy on the floor pulled a pin grenade," Claire finished. "And Nicholai went out the fourth-floor window." She drew a finger across her neck, and made a slashing noise. Dead. Most likely, anyway.
"Oh," said Leon. "Who is...he?"
"Let's explain," Jill began. "Everything. From day one."
He had to find her. He had to keep searching until he found her. He'd search forever; no, beyond forever.
He wouldn't have to if only Umbrella hadn't tried to take what wasn't there's. Didn't they know that stealing was no good?! Hadn't their mothers ever told them no to?! It didn't matter. He'd found them all, and given them all time-outs down in the sewer. Nice, long time-outs...
Except for that one. That one, he'd left him floating in the sewer somewhere. The one who'd had the vest labeled "Hunk..."
Oh well. It didn't matter. Soon, soon, he'd find Sherry. And then he could tell her it was alright. This was just a bad dream. And then he'd take her out to the fair that was coming...how he loved the fair. He could spend some time with her. They'd share cotton candy. They'd have fun together---like it should be.
But he had to find her first. He tried to call her name, but for some reason it didn't sound right. And he itched...he burned...but it didn't matter. Soon he'd be eating cotton candy.
Carlos had left the chapel moments ago with Leon, who was newly invested with a sense of duty upon hearing Nicholai's double roles. Perhaps it was his own experience with Ada that had prompted him to do so.
Claire was left in the cathedral with Sherry, Brad and Jill. She couldn't help wondering what to do with the little girl; it was too dangerous to have her follow them everywhere, but too risky to leave her alone. She leaned back against a hard wooden pew, mind spinning. Brad was asking Jill to move her arm a certain way, seeing if the antidote was taking effect in any way. Claire sighed and ran a hand through her hair. God, she was tired...she couldn't help wondering if it would be OK to spend the night here, resting. After all, Carlos had said he'd sent the "goddamned monster packing." Well, whatever that meant.
"Guys," she asked suddenly, looking over at the S.T.A.R.S. members. "Do you think we should take turns resting? Like shifts or something?" She looked at how tired and pale the teammates looked. Even though Jill had been in a half-doze for hours, she certainly didn't look rested. Jill looked at her, cocking her head. "I guess." Then she smiled, looking first at her shoulder than at Brad. "I guess we look like shit, don't we?" She laughed. "Alright, you and Brad rest up first, I can keep an eye on things for a while."
"Jill! You just got an antidote for a mutigenetoxin that was rotting your BRAIN, for God's sakes!" Brad sputtered. She put a hand over his mouth. "Shut up," she said. "You and Carlos haven't slept for two days." Claire's eyes widened. Two days?! And yet their performance at the hospital was at least above average...she shook her head. Wonders never cease, she decided.
"But..." Brad contested. "SHUT. UP." Jill said. Then she waved her hand around to indicate the chapel. "THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU, MORTAL!" She grinned. Brad shrugged. "Whatever," he said shortly. "I think you're missing a chunk of grey matter, though."
Claire laid back on a pew. She realised for the first time how cold it was. Her sweat had cooled, so now her drenched clothes felt like she had been thrown into a river. She shivered. How was Sherry doing? She was sitting next to Jill, clutching her good arm. Scared. Brad was on some other bench, she couldn't see where. It didn't matter. Despite the cold, Claire was soon asleep.
Within a few hours she had traded places with Jill. They hadn't been able to wake up Brad, but that was to be expected. He was exhausted, and she had to wonder if Carlos had collapsed somewhere. Two days...nearing three...Claire sighed and clicked back the hammer on Jill's Magnum. Sherry was dozing next to her, head resting on Jill's sweatshirt. God, thought Claire, I want to get going now. Now that I'm awake, I can't stand inaction... Oh well. They'll wake up soon, and we can go. To wherever it is that we're going.
The helicopter zoomed across the sky. It was devoid of all markings, but the civilians on the ground barely noticed. Only in one town did two of them look up and realise the discrepancy.
"Hank, why is that?" asked Hailly, pointing up at it. "It's got no markings." To which Hank had replied: "I dunno. Must be some government thing. I think maybe it's dealing with Raccoon City." "Raccoon City! Brrr," said Hailly. "It scares me. All that they say on TV. 'Chemical accident' and all that. But under all that, what are they really saying? What does it mean?" "God only knows," sighed Hank. "God only knows..."
Of course the chopper's pilot was well aware of the lack of markings, and of Raccoon City's predicament. Well, specifically of two people's in particular.
He only had a limited amount of time to get there. Jill Valentine and Brad Vickers were waiting for him. Assuming they still lived....
It was a thought the aviator did not contemplate on too deeply as he sped over the Midwestern countryside and scenery high in the sky.
(A/N: Damn! That rhymes TOO!)
Claire helped Sherry to her feet as soon as she had woken up. "We're going now, OK?" she asked, smiling at her as pleasantly as she could. It was easy. She felt plesant; they were leaving now. They had control of their own fates again. But Jill and Brad were grim as they scrounged for supplies in the dingy church. They checked their ammunition and exchanged expressionless glances; time to fight. Or run. Depending on the person and the situation.
Claire walked out of the chapel and into the main bulk of the church. She looked around. As wrecked and screwed as everything ELSE in Raccoon City. As wrecked and as screwed...
"S.T.A.R.S."
She wasn't sure, at first, where the sound had come from. But Jill had grabbed her arm and pulled her out into the courtyard, still littered with wreckage, and away, acros the street and into the alleys, with Brad following, carrying Sherry because she didn't react fast enough. Claire heard Jill scream "DON'T LOOK BEHIND YOU!" Claire realised the voice that had uttered the name of the fabled team wasn't human. That thing. That stalker.. Now it was stalking her, too.
After awhile she saw the city open up, and Jill plunged herself into some trees seemingly in the middle of town. A park. Claire followed; Brad was ahead of her now. Damn, these S.T.A.R.S. members were fast!
Claire felt herself tripping, then flipping. (A/N: Damn these rhymes!) She was propelled into the air, and hit the ground face first, mud choking her. She staggered to her feet and looked around. Jill had stopped in front of her, doubled over and out of breath. Brad had set Sherry down and was leaning against something; a gravestone. Oh fuck. She'd been dumb enough to trip over a GRAVESTONE. I guess I'm losing my mind, she thought to herself, smirking, as she read the inscription of the tomb she'd collided with. ALEXANDER LEVSKY, it read. 1904-1934. Short life, she thought sympathetically as she got up and wiped away some dribbling mud. Could be like mine, she thought suddenly. Short. If I'm not careful.
"Hey, Jill..." She was going to ask where they were, but the look on Jill's face stopped her. Anguish. Maybe Jill knew this place all too well... Brad had a similar expression, with a bit of shame mixed in. She didn't understand why. She didn't want to. They'd obviously lost the stalker. She glanced around. Toolshed over there, for the upkeep of these graves. Maybe there'd be something useful...After all, there should be a lot of unused stuff, she thought incredulously, glancing at the moss-eaten grave she'd tussled with. A lot.
"Hey," she walked over and tapped Brad on the shoulder. "Toolshed. And I think we lost that mutant." "Yeah..." he sounded a little doubtful, and glanced ver his shoulder again, like the last time they'd encountered it. Carlos; the worry bit at her again. "Jill," she called. "Shed. Tools. Toolshed." Jill threw her a half-smile. "OK," she said in an earnest voice. "Let's go in."
Dingy inside, Claire noted. Aw, hell. Like everything else. Brad flipped through some random papers while Jill sifted through tools and Sherry stood awkwardly in a corner. Claire leaned against a wall...a very wobbly wall...a VERY wobbly wall...what wall? In the second after she heard the crashing sound, saw Brad and Jill staring at her openmouthed and surprised, she was lying on her back. Damn, she thought. Real smooth, Claire. Looking good.
But as she looked up at what the wall led to...
"Umbrella!"
"Secret!"
"Command!"
"Center!"
Jill couldn't resist laughing at their sequenced responses. She leaned against another wall---a solid one, this---and giggled shamelessly. Sherry smiled delicately, the first smile she'd given out since Claire had met her. Brad shook his head, smirking. "Amazing, that, isn't it?" he asked. "Finding these things all over the place."
Jill went past Claire and hunted around through some files. Suddenly she gasped. "You guys..." she murmured. "Lookee what we have here."
"Nemesis," Claire read over her shoulder. "Nemesis. Created to...assasinate the S.T.A.R.S. members?!?!" Her mouth worked in shock. The creature that was chasing them finally had a name. "It was written by a...supervisor!" Jill gasped. "SUPERVISOR REPORT. Oh, my God..." she trailed off, breathing highly audible in her surprise. 'If the Nemesis is still loose in the city, then the S.T.A.R.S. must be very hard to kill... but they can't hope to evade it much longer.' That's all he wrote, as they say...Well, we ARE very hard to kill, damn it! Brad?"
"If I wanna be. Claire?"
"Well, I'm not a S.T.A.R.S. member-" she grinned. "-But damn straight!"
"Oh yeah. Duhhr," said Brad, smacking his forehead. Claire smirked. "Well, let's get going," said Valentine, throwing down the report on disgust. "No point in sitting here rotting." They made their way out.
Claire saw Jill and Brad's faces contort again with troubled emotions when they walked out into the graveyard once more. "You guys...are you okay?" Claire asked softly. Jill looked up at her, seemingly surprised all of a sudden that she even existed. "Yeah...I...I guess...Damn...It's just...this graveyard..." she ran a hair through her hair and sighed exasperatedly, a sound mixed with a tinge of anger and regret. "This place..."
Brad touched Claire's arm and nodded towards a section of the graveyard that was marked by a flagpole with a raised American banner and a fenced perimeter. She looked at him quizzically for a moment, then took a few steps towards it. And saw what had them so torn.
RICHARD AIKEN, JOSEPH FROST, KENNITH SULLIVAN, EDWARD DEWEY, FOREST SPEYER, ENRICO MARINI. The S.T.A.R.S. graves. She stared for a second. She'd met these people. She liked them, loved them even. You couldn't find better people anywhere. She wiped away cold tears in sudden misery. She backed up as Brad and Jill made their way over. This was more their place, not hers. She walked over to Sherry and leaned over to talk to her.
"How are you doing?" she asked. "OK," Sherry said quietly. "I'm scared, Claire. I'm scared of what's chasing us." "It's gonna be fine," said Claire, putting a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Everything."
Jill and Brad wandered around their fellow teammates graves, saying whatever they might to their fallen comrades. After all, it would be the last time they saw them. After a while Brad came back over to Claire. "She wants a minute more," he said, jerking his thumb in Jill's direction. Claire nodded, understanding.
But the click of a weapon's hammer distracted them. Looking up, Claire saw Nicholai, a pistol aimed at them. "Impossible!" Brad sputtered. "You were flung...out the fourth floor window..." "Shut up, coward!" Nicholai snapped. "I have my ways. Now, how did YOU all survive my bombs?" "So they were yours..." Claire said darkly, squeezing Sherry's shoulder. "You tried to kill us." "It's kill or be killed!" Nicholai barked. "Well, I'm impressed you have lasted so long...but you'll get no help from me! Now...DIE!"
I'm not sure exactly when Chap. 10 will be up. Soon, I hope. As always, if you've read this far, PLEASE review it! Thanks, and see you again!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
"There's no time!" Leon cried. "Hurry, you've got to administer the vaccine!" Brad took a few steps toward the front, holding the vaccine. He glanced behind him once more, as though it was a given the monster would be right there; he wasn't, of course. Or at least, not yet. Then he jogged forward and took the needle out of its carrying case.
Jill looked dead. He put a hand close to her mouth. "Not dead yet....." he said. "She's breathing; lightly, at least." He checked her shoulder and took a roll of bandages they'd swiped at the hospital for her out of a pocket of his kevlar vest. "Leon, rebandage her while I do this," he said, rising her arm so he could inject her with the antitoxin.
Claire wandered over to Sherry. Questions stung her whole body: Who was the man with the gun? Who had set the explosives--that same man? Would Jill be OK? What was that monster? How was Carlos doing...was he dead? What would happen to them if they survived this hell? And...she looked around....where the hell was Ada?
She heard Jill muttering something from the front of the chapel. It worked! She felt her heart leap, her eyes cool with tears of happiness. But she was too worried with speculation to be as jubilant as she could...
She watched, though, as Jill sat up groggily. "Where...?" she asked. "Oh.....chapel. Brad?" He nodded at her. "For a moment I thought you were...Chris...." He shook his head. "Naw," he said. "But Jill, we'll find him, together, after we escape. We'll find him and you can see him again..." They hugged.
Well, that was all great, Claire thought suddenly, but as she glanced at Leon she knew that something big had happened while they were away. Suddenly Carlos was running down the aisle, the doors thrown open, tripping over his own steel-toed-booted feet. He looked up, face blank with some muted emotion, but when he saw Jill his mouth curved to form a surprised and openmouthed grin. He run toward her, flinging his rifle aside, and gripped her in a tight hug. "Jill...!" He was crying and, Claire noted, so was Brad. She hadn't realised they'd all become such close friends in so short a space of time.
Claire strided softly over to Leon, letting the exuberance over Jill's survival go on beside them. She tugged at Leon's arm. "Leon...?" she asked quietly. "Ada...?" She wasn't as surprised as she might be to see his face become a mixture of hatred, scorn and anguish. "Traitor...!" he breathed through gritted teeth. "I've been there," said Jill from behind them. They turned.
"I said, 'I've been there.' Didn't Chris tell you about Wesker?" asked Jill, sitting up and staring at them. Her voice was still a little shaky, but deep again like it usually was. "He did," Claire said. "Leon---how is she a traitor?" She looked up at him.
"She said she works for...'them.' She said she got close to her 'boyfriend,' John Fay, just to obtain a G-Virus sample. She stole it from Sherry..."
"G-Virus?!" Claire moaned. "What IS that?"
"A more powerful mutigenetoxin than the T-Virus," Leon said. "Let me...explain...what I found out at the precinct with...with...HER...."
Annette had locked herself inside the small room. The S.T.A.R.S. office. She snorted. She could have gone on to the underground Umbrella complex to search for William more, but with Sherry missing...and time running out...she shrugged. She'd be dead soon, anyway.
She had already repaired the damaged radio. So, she thought, this is where Vickers and Dewey used to sit...She sighed and leaned back in an office chair. That kid...Kyle? No. Sean? No. Leon, yes Leon, that was it. He'd said Sherry had escaped the precinct with some trust-worthy woman. Maybe Sherry could escape, could be safe...
The worry ate at her guts, gnawed at them. She'd tried contacting them over the radio allready. She promised herself to use it again in another hour, to give it a try. She glanced around her, and noted absentmindedly that the picture of the team was missing from its frame. Not that she cared.
Just one hour. Than she'd use the radio again.
"G-Virus," Claire breathed, wide-eyed like a little girl. William Birkin, Sherry's FATHER, had injected himself and was now hunting down his own daughter to impregnate her with genetically mutated embyos, allowing the furthur spread of the virus. Irons with Umbrella, Bertolucci, the reported Chris had always complained about, dead...She shook her head violently. It was too much.
Jill and Brad didn't seem that phased. "So Irons is with Umbrella," Jill said. "I mean, no shit. Its like watching a B-Movie." Brad agreed, and Carlos didn't seem to care much one way or the other. Claire had to wonder if being in this environment was desensitizing them.
Suddenly Carlos stood. "I've got some lose ends to tie up," he said authoritatively, holstering his weapon again. "I've got to take care of them." "WAIT." Brad spoke sharply. "We have to tell them about Nicolai."
"You tell them," Carlos said. "I have to find him..."
"SIT!" Jill barked. Carlos sat himself on a nearby pew. "What ABOUT Nicolai?" she asked.
"We saw him at the hospital," Carlos said. "He had us at gunpoint." So that's who the man was, Claire thought. Now she knew Brad had been trying to tell her the guy's name, not "Nick will die" or "Nickle Eye" or whatever. "He survived, I guess," said Carlos. "I tried to ask him about this body lying there. He said he'd shot the guy, and that he was a 'supervisor.' He wouldn't tell me anything more, and then they-" he nodded towards Brad and Claire-"walked in." "The guy on the floor pulled a pin grenade," Claire finished. "And Nicholai went out the fourth-floor window." She drew a finger across her neck, and made a slashing noise. Dead. Most likely, anyway.
"Oh," said Leon. "Who is...he?"
"Let's explain," Jill began. "Everything. From day one."
He had to find her. He had to keep searching until he found her. He'd search forever; no, beyond forever.
He wouldn't have to if only Umbrella hadn't tried to take what wasn't there's. Didn't they know that stealing was no good?! Hadn't their mothers ever told them no to?! It didn't matter. He'd found them all, and given them all time-outs down in the sewer. Nice, long time-outs...
Except for that one. That one, he'd left him floating in the sewer somewhere. The one who'd had the vest labeled "Hunk..."
Oh well. It didn't matter. Soon, soon, he'd find Sherry. And then he could tell her it was alright. This was just a bad dream. And then he'd take her out to the fair that was coming...how he loved the fair. He could spend some time with her. They'd share cotton candy. They'd have fun together---like it should be.
But he had to find her first. He tried to call her name, but for some reason it didn't sound right. And he itched...he burned...but it didn't matter. Soon he'd be eating cotton candy.
Carlos had left the chapel moments ago with Leon, who was newly invested with a sense of duty upon hearing Nicholai's double roles. Perhaps it was his own experience with Ada that had prompted him to do so.
Claire was left in the cathedral with Sherry, Brad and Jill. She couldn't help wondering what to do with the little girl; it was too dangerous to have her follow them everywhere, but too risky to leave her alone. She leaned back against a hard wooden pew, mind spinning. Brad was asking Jill to move her arm a certain way, seeing if the antidote was taking effect in any way. Claire sighed and ran a hand through her hair. God, she was tired...she couldn't help wondering if it would be OK to spend the night here, resting. After all, Carlos had said he'd sent the "goddamned monster packing." Well, whatever that meant.
"Guys," she asked suddenly, looking over at the S.T.A.R.S. members. "Do you think we should take turns resting? Like shifts or something?" She looked at how tired and pale the teammates looked. Even though Jill had been in a half-doze for hours, she certainly didn't look rested. Jill looked at her, cocking her head. "I guess." Then she smiled, looking first at her shoulder than at Brad. "I guess we look like shit, don't we?" She laughed. "Alright, you and Brad rest up first, I can keep an eye on things for a while."
"Jill! You just got an antidote for a mutigenetoxin that was rotting your BRAIN, for God's sakes!" Brad sputtered. She put a hand over his mouth. "Shut up," she said. "You and Carlos haven't slept for two days." Claire's eyes widened. Two days?! And yet their performance at the hospital was at least above average...she shook her head. Wonders never cease, she decided.
"But..." Brad contested. "SHUT. UP." Jill said. Then she waved her hand around to indicate the chapel. "THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU, MORTAL!" She grinned. Brad shrugged. "Whatever," he said shortly. "I think you're missing a chunk of grey matter, though."
Claire laid back on a pew. She realised for the first time how cold it was. Her sweat had cooled, so now her drenched clothes felt like she had been thrown into a river. She shivered. How was Sherry doing? She was sitting next to Jill, clutching her good arm. Scared. Brad was on some other bench, she couldn't see where. It didn't matter. Despite the cold, Claire was soon asleep.
Within a few hours she had traded places with Jill. They hadn't been able to wake up Brad, but that was to be expected. He was exhausted, and she had to wonder if Carlos had collapsed somewhere. Two days...nearing three...Claire sighed and clicked back the hammer on Jill's Magnum. Sherry was dozing next to her, head resting on Jill's sweatshirt. God, thought Claire, I want to get going now. Now that I'm awake, I can't stand inaction... Oh well. They'll wake up soon, and we can go. To wherever it is that we're going.
The helicopter zoomed across the sky. It was devoid of all markings, but the civilians on the ground barely noticed. Only in one town did two of them look up and realise the discrepancy.
"Hank, why is that?" asked Hailly, pointing up at it. "It's got no markings." To which Hank had replied: "I dunno. Must be some government thing. I think maybe it's dealing with Raccoon City." "Raccoon City! Brrr," said Hailly. "It scares me. All that they say on TV. 'Chemical accident' and all that. But under all that, what are they really saying? What does it mean?" "God only knows," sighed Hank. "God only knows..."
Of course the chopper's pilot was well aware of the lack of markings, and of Raccoon City's predicament. Well, specifically of two people's in particular.
He only had a limited amount of time to get there. Jill Valentine and Brad Vickers were waiting for him. Assuming they still lived....
It was a thought the aviator did not contemplate on too deeply as he sped over the Midwestern countryside and scenery high in the sky.
(A/N: Damn! That rhymes TOO!)
Claire helped Sherry to her feet as soon as she had woken up. "We're going now, OK?" she asked, smiling at her as pleasantly as she could. It was easy. She felt plesant; they were leaving now. They had control of their own fates again. But Jill and Brad were grim as they scrounged for supplies in the dingy church. They checked their ammunition and exchanged expressionless glances; time to fight. Or run. Depending on the person and the situation.
Claire walked out of the chapel and into the main bulk of the church. She looked around. As wrecked and screwed as everything ELSE in Raccoon City. As wrecked and as screwed...
"S.T.A.R.S."
She wasn't sure, at first, where the sound had come from. But Jill had grabbed her arm and pulled her out into the courtyard, still littered with wreckage, and away, acros the street and into the alleys, with Brad following, carrying Sherry because she didn't react fast enough. Claire heard Jill scream "DON'T LOOK BEHIND YOU!" Claire realised the voice that had uttered the name of the fabled team wasn't human. That thing. That stalker.. Now it was stalking her, too.
After awhile she saw the city open up, and Jill plunged herself into some trees seemingly in the middle of town. A park. Claire followed; Brad was ahead of her now. Damn, these S.T.A.R.S. members were fast!
Claire felt herself tripping, then flipping. (A/N: Damn these rhymes!) She was propelled into the air, and hit the ground face first, mud choking her. She staggered to her feet and looked around. Jill had stopped in front of her, doubled over and out of breath. Brad had set Sherry down and was leaning against something; a gravestone. Oh fuck. She'd been dumb enough to trip over a GRAVESTONE. I guess I'm losing my mind, she thought to herself, smirking, as she read the inscription of the tomb she'd collided with. ALEXANDER LEVSKY, it read. 1904-1934. Short life, she thought sympathetically as she got up and wiped away some dribbling mud. Could be like mine, she thought suddenly. Short. If I'm not careful.
"Hey, Jill..." She was going to ask where they were, but the look on Jill's face stopped her. Anguish. Maybe Jill knew this place all too well... Brad had a similar expression, with a bit of shame mixed in. She didn't understand why. She didn't want to. They'd obviously lost the stalker. She glanced around. Toolshed over there, for the upkeep of these graves. Maybe there'd be something useful...After all, there should be a lot of unused stuff, she thought incredulously, glancing at the moss-eaten grave she'd tussled with. A lot.
"Hey," she walked over and tapped Brad on the shoulder. "Toolshed. And I think we lost that mutant." "Yeah..." he sounded a little doubtful, and glanced ver his shoulder again, like the last time they'd encountered it. Carlos; the worry bit at her again. "Jill," she called. "Shed. Tools. Toolshed." Jill threw her a half-smile. "OK," she said in an earnest voice. "Let's go in."
Dingy inside, Claire noted. Aw, hell. Like everything else. Brad flipped through some random papers while Jill sifted through tools and Sherry stood awkwardly in a corner. Claire leaned against a wall...a very wobbly wall...a VERY wobbly wall...what wall? In the second after she heard the crashing sound, saw Brad and Jill staring at her openmouthed and surprised, she was lying on her back. Damn, she thought. Real smooth, Claire. Looking good.
But as she looked up at what the wall led to...
"Umbrella!"
"Secret!"
"Command!"
"Center!"
Jill couldn't resist laughing at their sequenced responses. She leaned against another wall---a solid one, this---and giggled shamelessly. Sherry smiled delicately, the first smile she'd given out since Claire had met her. Brad shook his head, smirking. "Amazing, that, isn't it?" he asked. "Finding these things all over the place."
Jill went past Claire and hunted around through some files. Suddenly she gasped. "You guys..." she murmured. "Lookee what we have here."
"Nemesis," Claire read over her shoulder. "Nemesis. Created to...assasinate the S.T.A.R.S. members?!?!" Her mouth worked in shock. The creature that was chasing them finally had a name. "It was written by a...supervisor!" Jill gasped. "SUPERVISOR REPORT. Oh, my God..." she trailed off, breathing highly audible in her surprise. 'If the Nemesis is still loose in the city, then the S.T.A.R.S. must be very hard to kill... but they can't hope to evade it much longer.' That's all he wrote, as they say...Well, we ARE very hard to kill, damn it! Brad?"
"If I wanna be. Claire?"
"Well, I'm not a S.T.A.R.S. member-" she grinned. "-But damn straight!"
"Oh yeah. Duhhr," said Brad, smacking his forehead. Claire smirked. "Well, let's get going," said Valentine, throwing down the report on disgust. "No point in sitting here rotting." They made their way out.
Claire saw Jill and Brad's faces contort again with troubled emotions when they walked out into the graveyard once more. "You guys...are you okay?" Claire asked softly. Jill looked up at her, seemingly surprised all of a sudden that she even existed. "Yeah...I...I guess...Damn...It's just...this graveyard..." she ran a hair through her hair and sighed exasperatedly, a sound mixed with a tinge of anger and regret. "This place..."
Brad touched Claire's arm and nodded towards a section of the graveyard that was marked by a flagpole with a raised American banner and a fenced perimeter. She looked at him quizzically for a moment, then took a few steps towards it. And saw what had them so torn.
RICHARD AIKEN, JOSEPH FROST, KENNITH SULLIVAN, EDWARD DEWEY, FOREST SPEYER, ENRICO MARINI. The S.T.A.R.S. graves. She stared for a second. She'd met these people. She liked them, loved them even. You couldn't find better people anywhere. She wiped away cold tears in sudden misery. She backed up as Brad and Jill made their way over. This was more their place, not hers. She walked over to Sherry and leaned over to talk to her.
"How are you doing?" she asked. "OK," Sherry said quietly. "I'm scared, Claire. I'm scared of what's chasing us." "It's gonna be fine," said Claire, putting a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Everything."
Jill and Brad wandered around their fellow teammates graves, saying whatever they might to their fallen comrades. After all, it would be the last time they saw them. After a while Brad came back over to Claire. "She wants a minute more," he said, jerking his thumb in Jill's direction. Claire nodded, understanding.
But the click of a weapon's hammer distracted them. Looking up, Claire saw Nicholai, a pistol aimed at them. "Impossible!" Brad sputtered. "You were flung...out the fourth floor window..." "Shut up, coward!" Nicholai snapped. "I have my ways. Now, how did YOU all survive my bombs?" "So they were yours..." Claire said darkly, squeezing Sherry's shoulder. "You tried to kill us." "It's kill or be killed!" Nicholai barked. "Well, I'm impressed you have lasted so long...but you'll get no help from me! Now...DIE!"
I'm not sure exactly when Chap. 10 will be up. Soon, I hope. As always, if you've read this far, PLEASE review it! Thanks, and see you again!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl