By the time I had come to, the rain had slowed down to a mere drizzle, not pouring down in torrents like earlier. I was lying on my stomach, the left side of my face buried in mud. I could taste a little bit in my mouth, probably from it flowing into my face while I was unconscious this whole time. MY pajamas had been completely soaked through, clinging to my skin, chilling me to the bone. I sat up, closing my eyes tightly to try and curb the pounding headache that threatened to beat its way out of my head.
The far end of the bridge that I'd come from had now been blow up by one of the missiles that had just barely missed me. A small walkway alongside the bridge connected it to the other end, so at least I knew it was possible to get back if I ever needed to. I looked in the opposite direction, where Rodrigo was before I blacked out. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Who ordered that mysterious attack on the island? It had to be someone with a real grudge against
Umbrella, but Chris and the others knew I was on the island. They wouldn't deliberately try to kill me, would they? Probably not, unless Leon told Chris I was a traitor … but Chris and I had been in touch this whole time. He was well aware of my intentions.
My thoughts were interrupted by a distant moan, low and gurgling. The moan was then followed by the sound of shuffling feet, rubbing against the dirt ground. For a split second, I was filled with horror, but only a second. It had been three months, and I had come very far, but those undead cries from Raccoon City would never leave me. Those were the cries of zombies. But my fear subsided as soon as I took my training into consideration. I could kick the ass of someone twice my weight. Zombies should prove to be easier. But remembering their sick, peeling faces, spouting puss everywhere, my stomach began to turn. And, although they were in fact the undead with all sorts of skin and muscle peeling from their bodies, they were somehow extremely strong. Now I was wondering whether to feel confident or petrified. The truth was I didn't want Raccoon City to happen all over again.
Beyond the gate where Rodrigo once stood before the attack occurred, I could here the familiar sound of gunfire and it sounded terrifyingly close. I approached the door slowly tiptoeing across the wooden bridge to make sure my weight didn't produce any creaking that could be too loud. Grabbing the cold wet handles, I gave the door a little tug, but it didn't budge. Then I remembered – the door could only be unlocked from the other side by inserting a metallic eagle plate into a special hollow carved out in the lock. I honestly can't tell you now why I wanted to jump right into the middle of a gunfight at the time. My mind was probably still racing with thoughts of Claire getting hurt. I just wanted so desperately to reunite with her – with anybody, actually – anybody who didn't spend their entire life on this military island.
But I couldn't get the door open. Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I stepped back a little to get a good look at the door. There were barbwires lining the top of the frame and the connecting walls. Fortunately, the flying missiles had broken a few holes in the barrier, one above the door just big enough for my small framed body to slide through relatively unharmed. But the trick was getting up there.
After gaining some distance between myself and the door, I ran full speed towards it, launching my body up with one leg, using the other foot to propel myself upward further on the handles. When I saw the top of the frame come within reach, I shot my hands up, clinging to the edge of the frame, just dangling there for a few short seconds. I was pretty high off the ground. The training they put me through seriously helped my athletic ability, but it did nothing to curb my fear of heights. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pulled myself up with a little difficulty while I simultaneously tried avoiding getting too scratched up by the wire.
The gunfire had stopped by now and the scene beyond the gate was strangely quiet. The only sound resonating was that of falling raindrops and running water. The rain had started up again. I dropped myself down onto the other side of the door and caught sight of multiple bodies in various stages of decay draped all over the mud.
"Zombies," I said to myself without even realizing it. But there was no doubt in my mind. The Rockfort facility belonged to Umbrella. And what Umbrella facility didn't harbor a healthy amount of the zombie virus? This company was getting pretty damn predictable.
Suddenly, I heard the click of a gun come from behind me. I spun around and instantly raised my hands into the air. Then I saw him. It was that prisoner that I nearly got into a scrap with when I first arrived on the island, his brown hair in a tangle mess atop of his head. His face and arms were caked with mud, mixing with sweat and blood. The only thing different about him now was the fact that there were no chains to keep him from attacking me – and that he had a gun. I hoped and prayed that he didn't recognize my face.
"You're not a zombie," he said, sounding a little surprised.
"No shit," I replied. "What was all that gunfire about?"
"Gunfire?" he exclaimed. "Forget that! Why the hell were all missiles fired at the facility?"
"You'd be the last one to complain. You're out of the prison."
"I was just wondering."
"Listen," I said, getting down to business, "I'm with the Umbrella military forces and you're a prisoner. I know we're not supposed to get along, but this looks like a different situation to me. We've gotta find a way off this zombie infested island and we can only do that if we stick together …"
"I'm not relying on anyone to get me out of here," he interrupted. "You can do whatever you want to, but I can't afford to have you slow me down."
"Do you have any idea what kind of training I've gone through?" I said, getting defensive. "I have you know that I've survived another similar disaster in Raccoon …"
"I don't know, and I don't care," he interrupted a second time.
"Fine then," I replied, expertly snatching the gun from him single-handedly. "If I'm gonna be a burden to you then I might as well start now."
"Hey!" he shouted in protest. "That's my magnum you've got!"
"You want it back?" I taunted, dangling the firearm just a few inches in front of his face. "First I want your name."
"What for?!" He tried snatching it back, but I pulled it away just in time.
"So when I get off this island by myself, I know whose sorry ass to send help for."
He grumbled, mumbling something under his breath. "Steve Burnside."
"Kenneth Feng," I said, extending my hand. He ignored it. "Alright." I took my hand back. "I see if you're so reluctant to get acquainted, I'll best be on my way." I headed for the door built into the wall on the left from where I stood. I half expected him to come after me. There was no way he could be stupid enough to actually mean what he was saying. Was he even aware of what kind of monsters could be lurking around here? The zombie virus produced more than just zombies. Then again, I decided that if was gonna be this arrogant, then he probably deserved to die.
I entered another section of the prison compound where a large brick building stood. I wasn't quite familiar with the prison layout, but I was pretty sure this was where all the inmates ate. Back when I first visited this section of the compound, the stench of disgusting cafeteria food wafted through the air, enhanced by the sunny afternoon heat. But now, it was the heat of the fires that burned close by, brought to life by the attacks that carried the sickeningly sweet odor of rotting flesh. But I didn't need that to be well aware of the fact that there were zombies lurking about, although I hadn't seen any up to this point.
"Good to see you here, Kenny," a dark sinister voice called from the shadows, completely catching me off guard.
"Who's there?" I asked, jumping out of skin. I heard footsteps behind me. With developed reflexes, I spun around to face the intruder, quickly raising both fists in case he tried to attack. As the dark form stepped into the light, I could make out that this individual was a tall one. His entire body was covered in black clothes, but in this darkness, it was difficult to tell what he was wearing. The only thing I could make out from the reflection of the fires shining off its smooth surface was the pair of sunglasses on his face. "Wesker …" was all that could escape from my mouth. "What are you doing here?"
"I must commend you for your cleverness," he said calmly. "You knew what I was after – the Shadow Technology – and you decided to hide by allying yourself with Umbrella, the company to which you belong. I had almost given up all hope of finding you."
"And now you have," I replied, "but at what cost? What have you done to this entire island?!"
"Umbrella's done worse," he snapped. "But don't get too arrogant. I didn't come here for you. I came for Alexia Ashford. You're just a bonus prize."
"Who is Alexia Ashford?"
"I'm sure you've already become acquainted with her sexually repressed twin brother, Alfred." I nodded. Apparently, Alfred's reputation had preceded him, far beyond the shores of this island. "Now that I've found you, Kenny," he said, reaching out with inhuman speed, "you're coming with me." To say that I was surprised would've been an understatement. Wesker had me by the arm with a single hand, and yet he was nearly crushing the bone with an extremely powerful grip. The pain was so intense, it was paralyzing, sucking all the energy out of me that I couldn't even lift a finger to resist.
"L … let … me …" I couldn't say much else.
"Let you go?" he Wesker taunted. "Absolutely!" He flung me against the wall of the compound and my body struck face first. I was able to cushion the impact by placing my hands against the wall as I collided, but it did little good to lessen the pain. I removed my face from the wall, finding the cement a little cracked with a large splatter of blood on it. That was when I felt the thick fluid gush out of my nose, heating up the lower half of my face with its warmth.
"I've gotta get to Claire …" I said to myself, stumbling away from Wesker. But he dashed towards me, standing between me and the exit.
"Surely you don't mean Claire Redfield," he said, looking at me just passed the rim of his glasses.
"Shit," I cursed silently to myself. I opened my big mouth again, and consequently put Claire's life in danger for the second time.
"This island sure has its gems to collect."
The last thing I saw was Wesker's gloved fist coming straight for my face. Before my consciousness slipped into a temporary black oblivion, I can recall myself saying, "Please be safe, Claire."