Chapter Four
"Hey, Chris . . ." Claire and he were half-limping along the runway, to the nearest building. Not the best idea, but at least it was an idea. No more of that 'helpless girl' crap she had done before, when Chris finally got up. She'd gotten some courage from being with Chris, and had a set determination now to find Leon.
"Yeah, Claire?"
"Uhm . . . I don't think it's the best idea to just waltz into the facility. I mean, the plane crashed, just like in Antarctica. With Steve and me. And that was when Alfred controlled the plane. I know, that sounds farfetched, but just hear me out. The plane locked controls, and Alfie's face popped up on a monitor. He had a control-lookin' thingy. I had no idea what it was . . . but prob'ly what I just said. A control. Could have been the same thing . . ."
She hung her head low, and stared at the ground. Such a stupid idea, it was. That couldn't happen twice, not to her. I mean, she thought, how could the same thing happen twice? Is there another maniac trying to kill them? More Alfreds? Alexias? If not then what the fuck is going on here?!
"Well, Claire, I don't think it's the same, but you're right. It could be a repeat. That'd be half impossible, but it's worth a thought." He held her hand, in a brotherly love way, and she smiled a little. "Seriously, Claire, if anyone DID do this to us, I'll kill 'em. I'm serious."
She couldn't help but laugh at that, even though the thought of death scared her. Chris always knew he could make her laugh, and she couldn't stop. Like with Steve . . . his expression, her hysteria . . . damn, gotta keep one track of thought!
"Well, if you do," she choked out, still trying to control her laughs, "then save some for me. I don't wanna be left out of the fun, 'kay? Wait, what am I saying? Do it yourself! I am not a killer!" Her smile faded, and she stared at Chris. He'll do it, I know, she thought. I don't wanna be around when it happens, either.
"Okay, okay . . . first, we gotta find out who the shit is." Claire noticed that Chris now thought more of the idea. Finally, a good idea from her! Thinking was her good part, but Chris knew how to get out of most situations. She had only survived Raccoon and Rockfort with partners, never going it alone, except for five minutes or so. Steve had even had to save her from that BOW . . .
Her train of thought was cut off by a moving red dot. They were ten or so yards from the closest building, no one on top or bottom, though it was dark. Hard to see anything in this shit. She shoved into Chris without thinking, the bullet ripping a hole in the ground a few inches from where they stood, kicking up Nevada dust. They rolled, and Claire bolted, holding Chris's wrist, tugging him at full speed. The facility was five yards, four, three, two . . .
Another shot rang out, and Claire fell. Her leg hurt like hell, and she knew why. She had been hit. But, she bolted up, and limped to the door. She knew if she didn't keep moving, that she'd be dead in five seconds. The door was rusted, almost as if the virus had corroded it. Her hand tried the knob, to no success. Chris tugged her along, and dragged her to a doorway, the door blasted out.
They practically leapt through it. Chris turned, and put a huge board in front of the door, blocking it. The room they were in was dimly lit, but from what she could see, Claire made out a few features. She saw a desk, a crude chair, a few pens sprawled on the floor from a cup labeled 'World's best Dad', a few posters, research papers, and a blueprint, half hanging from the table. She tried to get up to get it, but stumbled, her leg still burning like hell.
Chris saw her, and rushed over. He pulled a MedKit, which he brought always, just in case. Pulling out a pair of tweezers and a syringe, he sighed. "You always get yourself into trouble, Claire." She smiled, and he slammed the syringe into her leg, first making it hurt like hell, then numbing it all together. Her eyelids started to close, the feeling of tiredness slowly engulfing her. She tried to stay conscious, to stay with Chris, to keep aware . . . but she lost that battle, and fell asleep, Chris working on her leg as she dreamt about the zombies, Alfred, Chief Irons, Alexia, and Steve . . .
"Hey, Chris . . ." Claire and he were half-limping along the runway, to the nearest building. Not the best idea, but at least it was an idea. No more of that 'helpless girl' crap she had done before, when Chris finally got up. She'd gotten some courage from being with Chris, and had a set determination now to find Leon.
"Yeah, Claire?"
"Uhm . . . I don't think it's the best idea to just waltz into the facility. I mean, the plane crashed, just like in Antarctica. With Steve and me. And that was when Alfred controlled the plane. I know, that sounds farfetched, but just hear me out. The plane locked controls, and Alfie's face popped up on a monitor. He had a control-lookin' thingy. I had no idea what it was . . . but prob'ly what I just said. A control. Could have been the same thing . . ."
She hung her head low, and stared at the ground. Such a stupid idea, it was. That couldn't happen twice, not to her. I mean, she thought, how could the same thing happen twice? Is there another maniac trying to kill them? More Alfreds? Alexias? If not then what the fuck is going on here?!
"Well, Claire, I don't think it's the same, but you're right. It could be a repeat. That'd be half impossible, but it's worth a thought." He held her hand, in a brotherly love way, and she smiled a little. "Seriously, Claire, if anyone DID do this to us, I'll kill 'em. I'm serious."
She couldn't help but laugh at that, even though the thought of death scared her. Chris always knew he could make her laugh, and she couldn't stop. Like with Steve . . . his expression, her hysteria . . . damn, gotta keep one track of thought!
"Well, if you do," she choked out, still trying to control her laughs, "then save some for me. I don't wanna be left out of the fun, 'kay? Wait, what am I saying? Do it yourself! I am not a killer!" Her smile faded, and she stared at Chris. He'll do it, I know, she thought. I don't wanna be around when it happens, either.
"Okay, okay . . . first, we gotta find out who the shit is." Claire noticed that Chris now thought more of the idea. Finally, a good idea from her! Thinking was her good part, but Chris knew how to get out of most situations. She had only survived Raccoon and Rockfort with partners, never going it alone, except for five minutes or so. Steve had even had to save her from that BOW . . .
Her train of thought was cut off by a moving red dot. They were ten or so yards from the closest building, no one on top or bottom, though it was dark. Hard to see anything in this shit. She shoved into Chris without thinking, the bullet ripping a hole in the ground a few inches from where they stood, kicking up Nevada dust. They rolled, and Claire bolted, holding Chris's wrist, tugging him at full speed. The facility was five yards, four, three, two . . .
Another shot rang out, and Claire fell. Her leg hurt like hell, and she knew why. She had been hit. But, she bolted up, and limped to the door. She knew if she didn't keep moving, that she'd be dead in five seconds. The door was rusted, almost as if the virus had corroded it. Her hand tried the knob, to no success. Chris tugged her along, and dragged her to a doorway, the door blasted out.
They practically leapt through it. Chris turned, and put a huge board in front of the door, blocking it. The room they were in was dimly lit, but from what she could see, Claire made out a few features. She saw a desk, a crude chair, a few pens sprawled on the floor from a cup labeled 'World's best Dad', a few posters, research papers, and a blueprint, half hanging from the table. She tried to get up to get it, but stumbled, her leg still burning like hell.
Chris saw her, and rushed over. He pulled a MedKit, which he brought always, just in case. Pulling out a pair of tweezers and a syringe, he sighed. "You always get yourself into trouble, Claire." She smiled, and he slammed the syringe into her leg, first making it hurt like hell, then numbing it all together. Her eyelids started to close, the feeling of tiredness slowly engulfing her. She tried to stay conscious, to stay with Chris, to keep aware . . . but she lost that battle, and fell asleep, Chris working on her leg as she dreamt about the zombies, Alfred, Chief Irons, Alexia, and Steve . . .