Chapter Three
Into the Mansion
Barry Burton stared in disbelief. They had found the Bravos' helicopter.
It was empty.
The oily smoke was beginning to dissipate, but the smell had been strong enough to lead Wesker, Jill, Joseph, Barry, and Chris to the Bravos' 'copter in record time; it had been in a clearing not far from where Brad had set down. One rail of the chopper was off the ground a few inches, the other rail sunk into the dirt. A quick examination from Joseph that Barry hadn't listened to confirmed that it was only a minor problem with the engine, and that Forest Speyer probably could have had the Bravos in the air in a few moments if he'd tried. But Forest and the others were gone. Strangely enough, every last bit of equipment was still on board, save the typical handgun issues and ammunition that would probably have been carried on the Bravos' persons.
Barry rubbed at his short red beard with one hand, puzzled. Enrico would have ordered the group to stay on the helicopter under normal circumstances. Had he taken the team to investigate on foot without a working escape vehicle? Barry sincerely hoped not; Enrico was bright, but Barry knew Enrico had been looking to prove himself to Wesker, Enrico being second in command. But getting himself killed was too probable for Enrico to have risked it. Warning bells rang in Barry's head that something was very, very wrong.
"What now, sir?" Chris asked Captain Wesker. Even in the growing darkness, Wesker's perpetual sunglasses covered his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest, Wesker stared at the 'copter, his expression unreadable. He was silent a few moments before he replied.
"Split up," Wesker said finally. "Look for any signs of a struggle, tracks, shell casings—any clues of where the Bravos might have gone. Let's find them fast, before Vickers sees his own shadow and wets himself."
The Alphas smiled grimly at his joke, but no one could bring themselves to laugh. They were well aware that if anything had happened to the Bravos upon leaving the chopper, the Alphas might fare no better in the forest. The cannibal killers and the other attacks, the ones committed by wild dogs... Animal or human, serial killers were nothing to joke about.
Chris and Jill headed south, Chris mimicking her movements: examining the grass for signs of the Bravos' passing before stepping on it, then flattening it as she moved to peer beneath it for blood or shells or footprints. Barry tried the technique and soon gave up; his huge feet didn't want to cooperate with the delicate steps. Joseph simply aimed a flashlight among the weeds and trotted east, while Barry continued west.
Barry bent to examine something—a small, dark object half-hidden in the grass. Shell-casing, nine-millimeter, probably a Bravos' Beretta. He looked up and saw a bit of dented weeds; excitedly he realized they'd been running and firing at something behind them as they went. Both upset and relieved, he started to call out to report his claim when Joseph yelled, "Hey! Over here!"
He turned and ran towards the sound of Joseph's voice eagerly, Wesker not far behind. Chris and Jill jogged up beside them as Joseph grinned and reached down to pull something from the ground.
However,
when Joseph turned to look at his find more closely, his eyes widened in shock,
then horror. It was obviously a handgun, and Barry could just make out that it
was one of the S.T.A.R.S. issues. Joseph lifted it clear from the weeds, and
then the other Alphas could see what else Joseph had discovered.
A hand gripped the gun still, the skin obviously Caucasian, the fingers strong
and supple, male probably. The arm had been roughly hacked off at the wrist,
blood still dripping from the hand, a bit of bone visible. Joseph yelped and
dropped it quickly.
They heard the sound too late to do anything: a ferocious, low growl, growing in volume by the second. Joseph turned slowly towards the trees at his back, and then something flew from the darkness towards the stunned, petrified Alpha team member.
Barry's first impression was that it was a skinned wolf, bloody muscle covering its body, slimy red patches frequenting the creature's figure more than fur. One of its ears was nearly gone, and large, sharp teeth bared in a snarl as it flew at Joseph. Joseph screamed as the monster bit into flesh, then gurgled into silence as the... the THING tore out his throat. Barry felt his gorge rise as he realized it was eating the now-dead flesh of Barry's former teammate.
"JOSEPH!" Jill screamed.
Big mistake. The creature looked up, blood and gristle dripping from its fangs. Barry, shaking away the numbing fear and horror that threatened to overpower him, brought up his gun and fired right into the chest of the animal. It flew backwards, landing heavily on its side.
And then, as Barry watched in disgust and shock, it got back up, snarling at the remaining members of the Alpha Team once more...
At that moment, Barry realized the second big mistake: the noise they'd made was attracting more of the monsters. Even as he turned and ran back west, the others following, he could hear the howls of more wild animals giving chase.
He led the way back to their helicopter, west and north of the Bravos'. Barry could hear the animals' pursuit over the sound of the chopper's blades. Brad had kept the 'copter warm; thankfully, the man had had the wits to be completely prepared for flight. He'd probably heard the screams and the gunshot, the doors were all closed, thanks for making it easy on us, Vickers...
Brad's eyes widened almost comically, and instinctively Barry turned, bringing his Beretta up once more. At least dozen of the skinned-looking creatures were closing on them.
"NO! DON'T GO!" Chris shouted at the top of his lungs.
Brad had yanked at the controls, and Barry turned in time to watch in disbelief Chicken Heart Vickers flew the chopper up into the sky, and was gone.
"You fucking piece of shit!"
Barry cast a startled look at Jill as she yelled the words and fired a single shot after the helicopter. Then she ran.
Barry and the others followed, an icy chill gripping his heart as Wesker took the lead. They were dead. They might be able to get back to the Bravos' chopper before the monsters reached them, but the dogs were fast, and they'd end up surrounded. Even if they made it, the 'copter was broken, and Joseph was the only one who could have gotten the damn thing back in the air!
Wesker must have thought the same thing, because they continued west, instead of back to the Bravos' helicopter. In turn, the Alphas turned and ran backwards, firing at the monsters as they went, hoping to hold them off. Barry couldn't help but think of the tracks he'd seen heading in this same direction, more likely than not from the Bravos, wondering if they were dead like Joseph, eaten by some mutant canines as they tried to run…
"Out!" Chris and Wesker shouted almost at the same moment. Barry turned to cover them, aiming carefully at what looked to be maybe a half-dozen of the canine-like monsters still behind them. He stumbled on the clumps of weeds, swearing loudly as all three of his well-aimed shots at the creatures hit the dirt instead. Jill caught his eye and spun, skillfully running as she held her Beretta in a two-handed combat grip. By the time she was empty, Wesker had reloaded, and Barry concentrated on his own speed instead, knowing the others were more than capable of at least holding the monsters back.
"Jill! Run for that house!" Chris shouted, then took up firing for Jill with Wesker.
She turned back around, saw where he meant, and nodded. Barry followed her gaze...
A house—a mansion, really, at least four times the size of Barry's own two-story Tudor—was only about thirty yards to the right. Barry veered towards it, wondering wildly whose house it might be. Though the grass around it was unkempt, it wasn't boarded up, so it couldn't be the Umbrella mansion... but there were no other mansions or even houses out here, none that he'd heard about, at least. The house certainly didn't LOOK abandoned, and Barry could see several lights shining through the windows. Jill reached it first and flung open the doors; thank God it was unlocked. Barry turned to fire now, letting Chris and Wesker pass. His last shot missed his mark, and he threw himself inside as one of the monsters leaped at him, close enough so that he could smell its breath stinking like rotted meat as Barry fell to the floor of the mansion. Wesker and Jill barely got the doors closed in time; a thud sounded against the heavy oak doors as Chris slid the bolt home.
Barry climbed to his feet, staring in amazement at the large open hall before him, a massive staircase leading to the second floor directly across from the front doors. He recognized the red Oriental carpet running from the door to the stairs from a glimpse of one of Angela's magazines immediately: it was the Umbrella mansion, no doubt about it. "What is this?" he said, more to himself than to the others.
"Wow," Wesker said appreciatively. "What a mansion!"
Barry shot the captain an incredulous look, feeling sickened and exhausted. Shocked, he saw Wesker was actually smiling! What the hell was his problem? Joseph was dead, the Bravos were missing...
Wesker's features settled back into the cold, expressionless mask the captain always wore, a frown on his face, and Barry wondered if he hadn't misinterpreted the captain's meaning, maybe he had meant to be sarcastic...
BAM!
"What the—" Jill muttered, turning towards one of the sets of double doors that branched off from the hall. There was no question what the sound was, however: a gunshot. Barry recalled his discovery of what was probably the Bravos' trail; they were probably all in the house! Before he could say anything, however, Chris interrupted.
"I'll go and check," Chris offered instantly. Barry saw the angry flush that stained Chris's cheeks; Chris had tried to insist this mansion was suspicious from the beginning, and now Barry could tell his old friend's worry for the Bravos was the only thing that was keeping him from screaming "I told you so!" at the top of his lungs like a twelve-year-old.
"Okay," Wesker answered calmly. "We'll stay in the hall, in case of an emergency."
Once again, Wesker's choice of words struck Barry as odd. Was he imagining things? Or was the captain...
What? Not surprised? Not crying like a two-year-old about Joseph? Focus, Barry! The captain's no happier about this than Joseph is!
Still, he caught Jill's questioning glance at the captain; apparently she felt the same as Barry, that it made more sense to stick together. Chris didn't notice, however; he was already started for the door. Jill caught his eye, but Barry just shrugged; what could he say?
"Chris?" Jill said suddenly.
He stopped, turning to look at her, then at the worry on Barry's face. Jill shot Barry a hopeless look as Chris looked at her expectantly. "Take care," she said finally, nibbling on her lower lip.
Chris grinned and waved, and Barry felt a bit better. Chris was a professional, and a damned good one. Chris would be fine.
He hoped.
