Again, I thank the reviewers!  But in order for me to dish out more chapters, I'll need more reviews.  Yes, the first few chapters don't really have any gore related scenes, but they get things going; a pillar to a building.  Without it, the building topples down.  I will acknowledge reviewers in the next chapter.

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CHAPTER 2
            Competition for Mr. Kennedy

     Claire dove through the muddy tire and landed on her shoulder, rolled down the equally muddy tracks, shot up into her firing position, and whipped out her Beretta.  She aimed at a large wooden cutout of the monster Birkin, its large eye peeling tangerine paint as t was continually rained upon by hot bursts of lead.  The orange chips snowed on the mud-coated earth accompanying the satisfying cracks of Claire's bullets.
     "Time!" cried Leon as he brought his thumb down hard on the stopwatch's stop button.  He read the blinking numbers on the face of the digital clock as the panting Claire sheathed her weapon and strolled toward him.
     "What's my time, Leon?" Claire asked, staring at the slightly younger girl attached to Leon's left arm.
     "Two minutes, thirty point two seconds.  Beat your own record, Redfield.  Hm?" Leon's attention darted toward the young blonde-haired girl still clutching his arm.  "What is it, Ashley?" He asked, trying to ignore her cursed pinching.
     The girl, Ashley, Claire supposed, was the President's daughter whom Mr. Kennedy was assigned to lay his life for.  "Yes, what seems to be the problem?" Claire inquired, focused on Ashley's pursed lips and sour expression.  Yep, she was a real kicker.
     "I don't like the smirk you gave her, Leon.  It looked like you gave her…bedroom eyes," Ashley replied, topping off her words with a snobbish accent as she snuggled deeper into Leon's arm.  At least the brat was honest, thought Claire.
     Leon rolled his eyes as if to complain, but no words spilled out as he kept his mouth shut.  Claire raised an eyebrow and looked up at Leon, who seemed to pay more attention to his blinking stopwatch than to the situation at hand.
     "Well, Mr. Kennedy, Ms. Graham, I'd better get going now.  I've been scheduled to meet a few of Raccoon's survivors from the early outbreak, the event we survived, Leon, later this evening.  Now if you'll excuse me," Claire gave the two a quick nod before turning around and retreating to her apartment complex near the base.  "God, how I hate formalities," grumbled Claire as she trotted away.
     Ashley giggled and tightened her grip on Leon's arm.  "Come on, Leon, let's get some ice cream," she smiled, spinning on her toes and leading Leon away from the training field.  The latter merely groaned as he allowed Ms. Superiority to drag him to his ebony Jeep.  She'd better get me a cone…sulked Leon.

     "Hi Sherry," mumbled Claire as she spun before the mirror.  The surviving Birkin, now almost seventeen, stood in the doorway of Claire's room clutching a Snickers bar.  She watched as Claire fumbled with her reflection, wondering why she had to look her best for a "survivor's meeting."  Was it a date maybe?  If the situation was the latter, then that was reasonable by all means.  "Hi Claire."
     "What the-?  Sherry, help me zip the back," Claire twisted and turned, beginning to lose trust in the mirror's deceptive ways of throwing her completely off.  Sherry did as she was told, holding up the back of Claire's deep maroon dress and carefully pulling the tab up the spine until it could go no further.  "Thanks, sweetie."
     "Anytime, but…why are you dressed up like that?  You're just going to discuss the mission and-oh no…It's Kevin, huh?  Or David?"  Sherry smirked, flicking her Snicker bar with her wrist.
     "Neither.  Just wanna look my best, dear.  You'll stay with Carlos and Jill while I'm gone."
     "What?!  This can't be happening… Not Carlos!" Sherry burst, accidentally sending her chocolate candy bar confection flying out the window.
     "What's so wrong about Carlos, Sherry?" asked Claire, who had picked up a small, velvet purse off the top of her bed and fished out a tiny golden case.  She plucked off the cap, twisted the case, and applied the deep cherry shade to her soft, pink lips.
     "He makes himself look like a total idiot whenever he takes me anywhere!" Sherry imitated Carlos' voice, plus accent, as best she could.  "Hello, you.  Let me buy you a cookie.  Ha-tcha!  Let's go play DDR, I'll show you some of my moves!  Look, Hot Topic!  Let's punk you out, hardcore!  Nyeeaw nyeeaw weeoooow!" She did a horrible impression of Carlos trying to be Jimmy Hendrix with an invisible guitar.  "And moreover, he never buys me a cookie!" Sherry looked up at Claire and threw her hands up in defeat.  Claire had given her the "that's-too-bad-just-deal-with-it" look and Sherry couldn't object.  It was either that or being grounded for a month.  She chose Carlos.
     "Good.  Well, I'm off.  Take care, kiddo." Claire kissed the younger girl's forehead before gliding out the door.
     "Yeah, I'll need it," Sherry groaned.  This was going to be a long day.

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