Sorry again for the delay! I was trying to decide if this is where I wanted
to end the chapter now... but I think it's a good place. And I have the
next chapter almost complete so unless I go through a major plot revamp, it
should be up in the next week. (Don't kill me if it's not though, please?
Zarbok- thanks for the review! The story is The Ruthless Mind, and it's under my co-writer's name; Sketty24. Yeah, I'm on a bit of a killing spree at the moment. Very good for anger management... (or not...)
Shady777- sorry the bit about Sena getting out wasn't too clear. I was thinking that she had enough purchase to keep herself sort of dangling there, almost dancing on Jill's shoulders, and the explosion gave her the necessary momentum to get up. shrug ah well. Poor old James and that dude who ran off the cliff... but such is loife.
Chapter 28
The air was poison.
That was the first thing Rosanna realized. The next things came fast. Somehow, there had been an earthquake or something, and she and Ian were alone. Also, there was a fire somewhere. It was unbearable hot and the smoke was choking her.
It fought for a place in her lungs. She struggled to keep it out.
Ian held onto her hand so tightly that the dolphin-shaped ring she wore dug into his fingers. They stumbled blindly together through the inferno of blazing foundations. The heat was incredible. The air burned her face. She could feel the skin on her legs begin to blister, and ran faster.
"There has to be a way out. There has to be!"
Lungs burning... body burning... air burning...
Oxygen took flight from the fire. Breathing was treacherous. Ian spluttered and gagged, searching for air that was not there. Fire menaced his clothing, threatening to make him a human flame.
Rosanna tripped on some rubble that was hidden by the heavy smoke, landing in a sprawling heap on the concrete. It was blisteringly hot. Through the blackness she could see tongues of fire leaping upwards, trying to scorch the clouds. It took all her strength to get to her feet, even with Ian pulling her up.
It was then, by complete chance, that Rosanna glimpsed the ladder. With flames sauntering nearer, she dragged Ian over to where she had seen it, fearing that it would have only been a mirage. Her foot came in contact painfully with a metal rung.
It was an ungainly ladder, rusting and obviously not often used. It was ugly, but sturdy. Almost crying in relief as she choked, she reached for it and began climbing hurriedly.
The metal of the ladder was scorching hot. She tried to touch it as little as possible, but the sobs from Ian below her as fire licked at his feet told her she couldn't afford to waste time. Sweat poured off her and made the rungs slippery.
"Gnaaaargh!"
She stopped and turned. Ian's face was dark with lack of oxygen and every movement was heavily labored. His clothing was catching fire. Rosanna dug her fingers into his hand, and attempted to drag him up past her so he could get some air and climb quickly to the top.
He clawed at her, bitten fingernails carving deep grooves into the smooth skin of her forearms. Smoke billowed into Rosanna's eyes, and she could only just see him. Sweat, blood and heat made it impossible to hold on, and he pulled his arms from her grip. Ian gave a low hiss of triumph, and pulled at his burning clothing. Momentum and gravity combined their will and pulled him decisively into the fire. Rosanna screamed, and stood on the ladder, not sure of what to do.
The flames nipped her heels, and she knew she had tarried long enough. Tears trailed unashamedly down her face and she choked over and over again on the smoke as she hauled herself upwards.
She came out on the streets. They were in disarray, creaking with melting tar. Mr. Beasley the geography teacher ran past, completely oblivious to her presence. Rosanna knew the state of the ground below the seemingly solid road, and had to get off the treacherous streets. But where to go? The sewers spanned for miles!
She shrugged bitterly and ran in the direction of the bank, clutching her bleeding and scorched arms to her, intending to hide in the forest.
-----
Barry shook his head. A quick, frenzied search of the immediate area showed it to be devoid of convenient escape holes. "There's only one thing for it," he muttered to the still dazed Chris, "we'll have to go back to stumbling blindly in the sewers, smoke, flame and all."
"There'll be something close by," Claire declared. "After all we've been through, there has to be something that will help us get out."
Rebecca nodded tiredly, eyes watering. "Just keep searching... there'll be something. I know it..."
The two men shared a look, and then limped and stumbled towards the flickering light down the tunnel.
Sweat beaded on them as they approached the raging flame. They crawled on their stomachs, keeping low to avoid as much smoke as possible. "This way," Rebecca hissed, and she scuttled over a large pipe that went over the nauseating sewerage.
Chris groaned but followed, having little choice. Barry allowed himself to pat the younger man on the shoulder before pushing Chris ahead of him. The fire hadn't seemed to have reached the other side of the sewerage. "Good thinking, Rebecca," Barry murmured, smiling wanly at her. Despite the terror of their situation, Rebecca blushed and felt extremely proud. She had helped in their hour of need.
------
Victoria snarled. Things were going well... then the wretch had decided to fight back. Victoria was a sore loser. She hadn't lived for a hundred and fifty years in the sewers to be thwarted by one impudent male who didn't know his place. The 'girl' lunged at him, and received a sharp blow to the jaw.
She staggered slightly. He was fast, damn fast, faster than her. And strong too. But not as strong as her, he had less than half her strength. If he kept avoiding her more powerful attacks, well, that wouldn't be a problem. But if she could hit him once, just once, he would be permanently out of action.
They were covered in each other's blood. Brilliant bruises bloomed and spread. Cuts formed and healed instantly. It was endless torment. The healing processes for Victoria were beginning to backfire. There were too many cuts and not enough time to heal them all.
All she needed was an opening. Break his neck, bite him, she didn't have a preference.
They were evenly matched. One faster, one stronger, but eventually physical things cancelled each other out. It came down to luck and cunning. Victoria's pale brow knitted in concentration. She slapped Wesker more out of irritation than anything else. His shades slipped to the forest floor.
His cat-like red eyes flared. Victoria smirked at him sardonically, her own eyes glowing eerily. Wesker managed a sneer of his own, bringing his trusty desert eagle in front of him. The smile quickly disappeared from Victoria's face.
The bullet buried deep into her shoulder. Several things cracked and burst. Blood dripped and ran free. Victoria blanched a bone-white.
She began to be aware of things she had never known before. Memories ran freely through her, and she didn't think they were her own. She remembered going to Tokyo Disneyland as a seven year old boy, remembered becoming bankrupt and living on the streets, and remembered running through the streets of Raccoon City trying to survive.
These were not her memories.
These were the memories her virus had accumulated.
She dug into the mind from Raccoon City as Wesker loomed over her. She saw him as a captain, as a comrade and as a traitor, but always intimidating.
"Traitor..." she hissed at him. The hand that was about to choke her stopped an inch from her throat. A slight glint of confusion sparked in his eyes. "You betrayed us to umbrella, killed almost all of STARS in the mansion..."
"How do you know that?" he asked emotionlessly.
"Wesker, where's Chris?" she replied, a perfect imitation of Jill's voice, repeating the words the cherry-headed woman had said after first entering that mansion.
"Jill Valentine told you."
"In a way," she said noncommittally. Then she smiled. "It would seem I have everyone's memories, everyone who has the virus."
She marveled at the fact she had never known before, never cared to find out.
"The Jill Valentine must be a 'vampire'."
Victoria smiled, glancing over his shoulder. "So it would appear. Speak of the devil herself."
Wesker straightened and turned. Jill stood some distance away in the trees. Wesker saw her clearly with his enhanced 'fuzzy' vision.
Victoria made the most of his distraction, digging after the bullet in her shoulder with strong fingernails and stifling her gasps of pain. Blood oozed over her hands, but she pulled the offending article out. Automatic healing took over properly, joining broken arteries and ribs.
The other vampiress watched him calculatingly. She took a few quick steps forward. Wesker shot at her. From this distance, there was no way he could miss.
----
PLEASE REVIEW!
Zarbok- thanks for the review! The story is The Ruthless Mind, and it's under my co-writer's name; Sketty24. Yeah, I'm on a bit of a killing spree at the moment. Very good for anger management... (or not...)
Shady777- sorry the bit about Sena getting out wasn't too clear. I was thinking that she had enough purchase to keep herself sort of dangling there, almost dancing on Jill's shoulders, and the explosion gave her the necessary momentum to get up. shrug ah well. Poor old James and that dude who ran off the cliff... but such is loife.
Chapter 28
The air was poison.
That was the first thing Rosanna realized. The next things came fast. Somehow, there had been an earthquake or something, and she and Ian were alone. Also, there was a fire somewhere. It was unbearable hot and the smoke was choking her.
It fought for a place in her lungs. She struggled to keep it out.
Ian held onto her hand so tightly that the dolphin-shaped ring she wore dug into his fingers. They stumbled blindly together through the inferno of blazing foundations. The heat was incredible. The air burned her face. She could feel the skin on her legs begin to blister, and ran faster.
"There has to be a way out. There has to be!"
Lungs burning... body burning... air burning...
Oxygen took flight from the fire. Breathing was treacherous. Ian spluttered and gagged, searching for air that was not there. Fire menaced his clothing, threatening to make him a human flame.
Rosanna tripped on some rubble that was hidden by the heavy smoke, landing in a sprawling heap on the concrete. It was blisteringly hot. Through the blackness she could see tongues of fire leaping upwards, trying to scorch the clouds. It took all her strength to get to her feet, even with Ian pulling her up.
It was then, by complete chance, that Rosanna glimpsed the ladder. With flames sauntering nearer, she dragged Ian over to where she had seen it, fearing that it would have only been a mirage. Her foot came in contact painfully with a metal rung.
It was an ungainly ladder, rusting and obviously not often used. It was ugly, but sturdy. Almost crying in relief as she choked, she reached for it and began climbing hurriedly.
The metal of the ladder was scorching hot. She tried to touch it as little as possible, but the sobs from Ian below her as fire licked at his feet told her she couldn't afford to waste time. Sweat poured off her and made the rungs slippery.
"Gnaaaargh!"
She stopped and turned. Ian's face was dark with lack of oxygen and every movement was heavily labored. His clothing was catching fire. Rosanna dug her fingers into his hand, and attempted to drag him up past her so he could get some air and climb quickly to the top.
He clawed at her, bitten fingernails carving deep grooves into the smooth skin of her forearms. Smoke billowed into Rosanna's eyes, and she could only just see him. Sweat, blood and heat made it impossible to hold on, and he pulled his arms from her grip. Ian gave a low hiss of triumph, and pulled at his burning clothing. Momentum and gravity combined their will and pulled him decisively into the fire. Rosanna screamed, and stood on the ladder, not sure of what to do.
The flames nipped her heels, and she knew she had tarried long enough. Tears trailed unashamedly down her face and she choked over and over again on the smoke as she hauled herself upwards.
She came out on the streets. They were in disarray, creaking with melting tar. Mr. Beasley the geography teacher ran past, completely oblivious to her presence. Rosanna knew the state of the ground below the seemingly solid road, and had to get off the treacherous streets. But where to go? The sewers spanned for miles!
She shrugged bitterly and ran in the direction of the bank, clutching her bleeding and scorched arms to her, intending to hide in the forest.
-----
Barry shook his head. A quick, frenzied search of the immediate area showed it to be devoid of convenient escape holes. "There's only one thing for it," he muttered to the still dazed Chris, "we'll have to go back to stumbling blindly in the sewers, smoke, flame and all."
"There'll be something close by," Claire declared. "After all we've been through, there has to be something that will help us get out."
Rebecca nodded tiredly, eyes watering. "Just keep searching... there'll be something. I know it..."
The two men shared a look, and then limped and stumbled towards the flickering light down the tunnel.
Sweat beaded on them as they approached the raging flame. They crawled on their stomachs, keeping low to avoid as much smoke as possible. "This way," Rebecca hissed, and she scuttled over a large pipe that went over the nauseating sewerage.
Chris groaned but followed, having little choice. Barry allowed himself to pat the younger man on the shoulder before pushing Chris ahead of him. The fire hadn't seemed to have reached the other side of the sewerage. "Good thinking, Rebecca," Barry murmured, smiling wanly at her. Despite the terror of their situation, Rebecca blushed and felt extremely proud. She had helped in their hour of need.
------
Victoria snarled. Things were going well... then the wretch had decided to fight back. Victoria was a sore loser. She hadn't lived for a hundred and fifty years in the sewers to be thwarted by one impudent male who didn't know his place. The 'girl' lunged at him, and received a sharp blow to the jaw.
She staggered slightly. He was fast, damn fast, faster than her. And strong too. But not as strong as her, he had less than half her strength. If he kept avoiding her more powerful attacks, well, that wouldn't be a problem. But if she could hit him once, just once, he would be permanently out of action.
They were covered in each other's blood. Brilliant bruises bloomed and spread. Cuts formed and healed instantly. It was endless torment. The healing processes for Victoria were beginning to backfire. There were too many cuts and not enough time to heal them all.
All she needed was an opening. Break his neck, bite him, she didn't have a preference.
They were evenly matched. One faster, one stronger, but eventually physical things cancelled each other out. It came down to luck and cunning. Victoria's pale brow knitted in concentration. She slapped Wesker more out of irritation than anything else. His shades slipped to the forest floor.
His cat-like red eyes flared. Victoria smirked at him sardonically, her own eyes glowing eerily. Wesker managed a sneer of his own, bringing his trusty desert eagle in front of him. The smile quickly disappeared from Victoria's face.
The bullet buried deep into her shoulder. Several things cracked and burst. Blood dripped and ran free. Victoria blanched a bone-white.
She began to be aware of things she had never known before. Memories ran freely through her, and she didn't think they were her own. She remembered going to Tokyo Disneyland as a seven year old boy, remembered becoming bankrupt and living on the streets, and remembered running through the streets of Raccoon City trying to survive.
These were not her memories.
These were the memories her virus had accumulated.
She dug into the mind from Raccoon City as Wesker loomed over her. She saw him as a captain, as a comrade and as a traitor, but always intimidating.
"Traitor..." she hissed at him. The hand that was about to choke her stopped an inch from her throat. A slight glint of confusion sparked in his eyes. "You betrayed us to umbrella, killed almost all of STARS in the mansion..."
"How do you know that?" he asked emotionlessly.
"Wesker, where's Chris?" she replied, a perfect imitation of Jill's voice, repeating the words the cherry-headed woman had said after first entering that mansion.
"Jill Valentine told you."
"In a way," she said noncommittally. Then she smiled. "It would seem I have everyone's memories, everyone who has the virus."
She marveled at the fact she had never known before, never cared to find out.
"The Jill Valentine must be a 'vampire'."
Victoria smiled, glancing over his shoulder. "So it would appear. Speak of the devil herself."
Wesker straightened and turned. Jill stood some distance away in the trees. Wesker saw her clearly with his enhanced 'fuzzy' vision.
Victoria made the most of his distraction, digging after the bullet in her shoulder with strong fingernails and stifling her gasps of pain. Blood oozed over her hands, but she pulled the offending article out. Automatic healing took over properly, joining broken arteries and ribs.
The other vampiress watched him calculatingly. She took a few quick steps forward. Wesker shot at her. From this distance, there was no way he could miss.
----
PLEASE REVIEW!