Chapter 2

"Work Begins"

August 1st, 1977

Brian had been up for almost sixteen hours. In that time, he had studied the progress of the T-Virus and learned how it infects those who come in contact with it. Four hours ago he had started an official log, recording his official work on the T-Virus, its possibilities, and his work on the female subject.

He had stolen a composition book as well and made it his private journal, recording his real work on the female subject and the goings-on in the complex. Brian was sitting by the female subject, hunkered over his private journal, a candle burned in front of him, casting shadows that danced on the walls as he scribbled furiously on the paper with a pencil, his handwriting almost illegible to all but himself;

August 1st 1977,

It took some doing, but I finally found her. It had been so long since I saw her last; I had almost forgotten what she looked like. When I did see her, I almost had a heart attack. She's only a shell of her former self. Just seeing her would make even the most hopeful of humans lose faith in the possibility of helping her…but when she saw me, I know she recognized me. The way she looked at me had shown me her feelings. For the first time in, what had to have been a decade, she has hope.

Right now, she's asleep, and therefor cannot see me as I write this. I want to get her out of here, but I can't move fast. I know that now. I also know that there is little hope of getting her out of here soon. She will not have a long life of coherency, but I am determined to get her out of here. When she dies, she will die as a human, not as a lab-rat. As short as her life as a person may be, I want to give her the chance to make something of it. Once, she confided in me before all this, that she had wanted to have a family. I want to give her the chance for that.

Seeing her as she is now, and remembering how she was only a few years ago…so happy…so full of life…it is almost too much to handle. Umbrella stole her youth, they stole her hopes, they stole her dreams, they stole her sanity. They stole from her, all that defined her, not as a human, but as a person. This can not be allowed. I will give her back her life, but I can not give her back her youth. Not yet, at least.

Brian closed his journal, slipped it into a pocket of his white lab-coat, and immediately began scribbling words on a clipboard when the door opened and Jay entered with a tray of food.

Jay looked at the sleeping woman, then to Brian, who yawned, "Tired?"

Brian nodded and checked his watch, "Yeah. Been up too long. That's all," he noticed the tray of food, "Is that for her or me?"

"It's for her, you gotta get your own, lazy ass," Jay said with a grin.

Brian was to tired to notice the playful insult, "You should let her sleep. I'm willing to bet that it's the first time she's slept soundly in a few years."

"I'm willing to bet you're right," Jay said, as he sat the food on a stool by her bed, "This place gives me the willies."

Brian laughed and scribbled a little more on his clipboard before getting up and going to the door.

Jay turned to his departing friend, "Brian?"

"Yeah, JD?"

Jay paused for a moment, then asked, "How do you feel about what we're doing down here?"

Brian thought for a second, then looked at the female subject, "It's not right. Good night, Jay."

"Good night, Brian. See ya in the morning," Jay said, as his friend left the room.