21: And Two More
"Hey, look," said Jack, spotting something.
"What?" said Lisa.
"Over there," said Jack. "By the side of the road."
Slumped against a mailbox, clutching her side, was a soldier. Kneeling beside her was another soldier, also female, trying to administer to her comrade's wounds.
"We have to help them," said Lisa, and stopped the car.
"No, don't," hissed Amber. "Did you see the insignia on their shirt-sleeves and berets? They're with Umbrella! Part of the UBCS if I'm not mistaken."
"What's the UBCS?"
"Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. Mostly made up of exiles and war criminals from dodgy parts of the world. They're mercenaries, paid to fight for Umbrella and do their dirty work."
"Dirty work?" said Lisa.
"Yeah. They clean up the mess if one of Umbrella's bioweapon experiments screws up and their creations start attacking people. I've also heard that they sometimes carry out assassinations on Umbrella's behalf, although I haven't been able to prove it," said Amber. "The UBCS are the scum of the earth. Almost as bad as the people who pay them."
"Okay, so they're not nice, but we should still help them," said Lisa. "After all, we helped you, and as you may have noticed Jack isn't overly fond of cops."
"The police force isn't with a company that secretly and illegally experiments with bio-organic weapons!" Amber said indignantly.
"Your Chief of Police is," replied Lisa. "Didn't you say he took bribes from Umbrella?"
Amber fell silent.
"There you are then. Amber, they may be bad people, but we're not. We're going to help them," said Lisa.
"All right, you've made your point," Amber grumbled. "But no more picking up survivors. There's barely enough room for us. Any more and they'll have to go in the trunk."
Lisa got out of the car and hurried over to the two mercenaries. The uninjured soldier looked up at her approach.
"I don't know what fool thought that leaving red barrels filled with explosive substances around town was a good idea," she said. "A stray bullet hit one of the barrels when we were fighting zombies, and it exploded. She was injured by flying shrapnel. Do you have a first aid kit? Our medic was killed in the fighting."
"Are there any more of you?" said Lisa.
"A few. Lieutenant Victor, Sergeant Ginovaef, Corporal Oliveira. I don't know where they are. We got cut off from the rest of our unit. We've been searching for them for some time."
The other soldier groaned.
"Christina… is there any more morphine?"
"I can't give you any more," said the first soldier. "You know that. It's too dangerous."
"It hurts…"
"I know, but I can't do anything about it. You'll just have to put up with it."
Lisa leaned over to take a closer look at the injured woman. There was a deep gash in her side, but how deep, she couldn't tell. There was too much blood.
"Is it safe to move her?" Lisa asked.
"Safer than leaving her here to die. In the UBCS we don't like leaving fallen comrades behind. An old tradition. Like the Navy SEALS."
"Come with us," said Lisa. "We've got a first-aid kit, we might be able to help."
"You're heading straight out of town, I presume?"
"Not yet. We have to go to Umbrella HQ first."
"Umbrella. Hmm. But why?"
"My parents work there. I don't know if they're still alive, but I have to look for them. I'm not leaving Raccoon City until I find them."
"Going to HQ might prove advantageous. Perhaps we'll find the rest of our team there. If not, they have radio equipment in the control tower; we might be able to contact them. Yes, we'll come with you."
"Good. Hey, Jack, get over here and give us a hand!" called Lisa.
"No, I can carry her," said the mercenary, picking up her colleague. "If I wasn't strong I wouldn't be a soldier."
"What are soldiers doing here in Raccoon City?" Lisa asked.
"We were sent here to look for survivors," explained the second mercenary, from the arms of the other. "To help them escape… quite ironic that the survivors find us and we end up needing their help."
"I guess," said Lisa. "If you two want to sit in the back, we can get out of here."
The second mercenary raised her head slightly as they got to the convertible – it was looking slightly the worse for wear, but still stylish.
"Nice car," she said admiringly.
The first mercenary shook her head. "Impractical," she said. "You don't have the protection of a solid roof over your head, to shield you from falling debris when you run through barricades. And if you hit a zombie travelling at full speed, you end up with it sailing over your heads and landing right in the laps of whoever's sitting in the back. I would have chosen a truck, myself."
"Yes, well, there was a slight shortage of trucks," said Lisa petulantly. "We had to take what we could get."
"I suppose the boy chose this one?" said the first mercenary, nodding towards Jack.
"Yes."
"I thought so. When I see a sports car with heavy metal music in the CD player and a pretty girl driving, I see the choice of a typical adolescent male," said the woman coolly. "They're all the same, teenage boys. All balls and no brains."
"Hey!" said Jack and Lisa, both outraged at the casual insult.
"Rule number one… never complain about the appearance of an escape vehicle," said the second mercenary. "We're fortunate to have an escape vehicle. Stop being so ungrateful."
"I'm not being ungrateful. I'm being rational."
"You're being a complete bitch."
"That's Corporal Complete Bitch to you, Private."
"Speaking of which, who are you anyway?" said Lisa, as the first soldier helped her comrade into the back of the car.
"Corporal Christina Ardizzone, Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service," she replied. "And this is my esteemed colleague, Private Renée Lavelle."
"Hi," said Renée, with a grimace of pain as she sat down.
"Hi yourself," said Amber, who didn't look too impressed.
"Now be nice, Amber," said Lisa sternly. "Well, Corporal, Private, I'm Lisa Hartley, this is my friend Jack Carpenter, and your new buddy in the back - "
"Huh," said Amber.
"- is Lieutenant Amber Bernstein of the RPD," said Lisa, glaring at Amber. "And if the representative of our friendly local police force doesn't like soldiers, then that's just tough. She's just going to have to be nice and polite about it."
"Polite, my ass," muttered Amber.
"For a police officer, you're surprisingly tactless," said Lisa. "Listen, Amber, liking soldiers is not compulsory. I can't make you like them, or vice versa, and even if I could, we don't have time to sit in a circle and play and learn how to be friends. We don't need to be friends. But we do need to work together if we're going to get out of here alive. And if anyone in this car doesn't like it, well, they've got feet; they can walk the rest of the way. Got that?"
"Yes," chorused the three women in the back, Amber scowling the whole time.
"Good. Let's move."
"How about that first aid kit?" called Renée. "I'm bleeding pretty badly."
"Yeah," said Amber, looking down in disgust. "All over me, too. Move over, will you? I don't want your blood all over my uniform. It's dirty enough without random mercenaries bleeding to death all over it."
"It sound like somebody feel like walkin'," called Jack. "Play nice, kids."
He tossed the first aid kit back to Christina.
"Thanks," she said. "Right, lie down. Let's take a look at you."
Renée lay down gratefully on the back seat, her head resting in Christina's lap and her army boots on Amber's.
"Do you mind?" said Amber irritably, pushing Renée's feet away roughly.
"Owww!" yelled Renée. "Get some compassion, will you, flatfoot?"
"Compassion? Hah! I'm not the one trained to kill people in cold blood for money, and not much money either!" said Amber.
In one snake-fast movement, Christina had gone from treating her comrade to pointing a gun right between Amber's eyes.
"Let's leave it at that, shall we?" said Christina calmly.
Amber gulped. Much as she hated Umbrella and all associated products, arguing with their military attachments probably hadn't been one of her better ideas.
"Sorry," said Amber quickly, resolving to keep her mouth shut in future.
This was acknowledged with a small, tight nod from Christina.
"Hey, what's that?" said Renée, pointing to something in the first aid kit. "That tube thing. Looks kind of like deodorant."
Christina took out a spray can, and examined the label.
"A First Aid spray. I didn't know Umbrella had started making these already."
"Yes, they just put them on the market," called Lisa. "My dad helped design those," she added, with a hint of pride.
"They don't give us First Aid sprays," complained Renée. "Cheapskates."
"Amazing things, First Aid sprays," said Christina absently. "Disinfectant, natural healing agent and local anaesthetic all in one."
She sprayed some of the contents over Renée's shrapnel wound. Renée winced slightly, but said nothing. Christina put the First Aid spray back in the medicine kit, and bandaged the wound.
"There," she said finally. "We'll fix you up properly once we get back to base."
----------
Lisa was right, thought Amber later. Liking soldiers isn't compulsory. And she can't make me like them. Well, I don't mind soldiers, but I don't like mercenaries. Especially Umbrella mercenaries.
Especially Corporal Ardizzone. The woman with long, sleek blonde hair and blue eyes irritated the hell out of her. She was striking, but it was a severe, glacial beauty; there was no warmth in the eyes, no hint of a smile, and her features, although perfect, were just a little too sharp. As for the way she behaved; well, she was a regular ice queen. Cold and hard and a "complete bitch", as Renée so aptly put it. And pointing a gun at her head hadn't exactly endeared her to Amber.
Private Lavelle she didn't mind so much. She was the complete opposite of her supposedly superior officer - a brown-eyed girl with dark, cropped hair, and a rather more cheerful demeanour now that she was no longer in pain. And, as it happened, she had quite a sense of humour.
"Well, Jack," said Renée, "You're a lucky man."
"What d'you mean?" said Jack.
"You're in a car with four beautiful women. I'd call that pretty lucky."
"Yeah, I guess. But three of them be too old for me."
"Well, you know what they say about older women…" Renée laughed.
"Yeah," said Jack, grinning. "They got wrinkles."
Renée burst out laughing, and so did Lisa. Even Amber couldn't stop herself from smiling. But Christina did nothing more than raise her eyebrows slightly.
"That's not what she meant," she said.
"Hey, lady, I know what she mean," said Jack. "I spend the past ten years of my life livin' with an aunt in that line of business. Trust me. I know plenty."
"I'll bet you do, darling," said Renée, winking at him.
That remark had earned her a sharp look from Lisa. There was definitely something going on between Lisa and Jack, Amber decided, although they both refused to admit it.
"So are you two together, then?" Renée asked Lisa and Jack.
Jack and Lisa glanced at each other.
"No," said Lisa, after a pause. "Just friends."
Yeah, right, thought Amber. If you're just friends, then explain the look of pure evil that you threw at Renée when she winked at him. That's a "hands off my man" look if ever I saw one.
"Really?" said Renée. "Then how come -?"
There was a muffled bang from somewhere in the depths of the car, and it rolled to a halt.
"Oh, no. You gotta be kiddin'," groaned Jack. "We break down? Now? I no can believe this…"
"It's like some kind of sick joke," said Lisa, staring in shock at the dashboard. She thought she was going to break down and cry. Things had just been starting to look up – they'd got a car, there were no monsters around, they were finally making progress towards Umbrella's headquarters, and now they'd broken down. Was this ordeal never going to end?
"Don't panic," said Amber hastily. "It's okay. I'm good with cars. Let me take a look."
Amber climbed out of the back and went round to open up the hood. She jumped backwards as steam hissed out from some unseen crevice of the engine.
"That's not a good sign," said Renée glumly.
"You're telling me," said Amber, waving away the clouds of steam and bending towards the engine for a closer look.
Joseph had been good with cars; he'd been the STARS Alpha Team's vehicle specialist, and he'd taught her a few things about fixing cars. Now what had he said about this sort of situation?
If there's clouds of steam pouring out of your engine, it's probably time to get another car.
Great, she thought. Thanks a lot, Joe. You can't even help me from beyond the grave. Oh, where are you when I need you? Stupid question. You're dead. Why did you have to leave me, Joe? Why did you have to die? I know you used to drive me crazy sometimes, but I loved you so much.
Amber sighed, and tried to focus on the source of the problem.
Why couldn't you have come back from that mission? I wish you had. Maybe then we'd be safe in some other town by now, and I'd be watching you watch the football. You always did love football. Or maybe we'd be at the movies, or eating out somewhere, or maybe we'd just be walking. I used to love walking with you, Joe, just you and me, talking about everything and nothing and just enjoying being together. I'd give anything to walk with you again, just one more time. I wish you were here now. I need you. I miss you. And you're not here.
Amber swore as she caught her finger on a red-hot piece of metal.
Joe. My Joe. They took you away from me. But I won't let them get away with it. I'll make them pay. I promise. I'll get them. I'll get them if it kills me.
"Amber!" Lisa shrieked.
Amber jumped, and whacked her head on the underside of the hood.
"Ow!" she yelled. "What's the matter now?"
It was then that she heard the cawing overhead. She looked up, just in time to see a flock of crows descend from nowhere.
Jack and Lisa were the first to react. They remembered the reports about the man who was attacked by crows, and since the man was now dead, they decided instantly that sticking around was not a good idea.
They leapt out of the car, screaming at Amber, Renée and Christina to follow them. Christina got to her feet immediately, running after them without a second thought for her wounded colleague.
So much for not leaving a wounded comrade behind, thought Amber. Heartless bitch.
Amber briefly contemplated leaving Renée there to fend for herself. But that was what Christina had done. And she sure as hell wasn't Christina. Lisa was right once again: They may be bad people, but we're not. We're going to help them.
Amber rushed to the back of the car and took Renée's hand.
"Come on, let's go," said Amber hurriedly, helping her up and out of the car.
"Thank you," gasped Renée.
"Don't mention it," said Amber. "Just run, okay?"
They ran. Screeching crows swooped down from the sky like avenging angels and pursued them.
Bang! Feathers rained down as one of the zombie crows was blown right of the sky by means of Renée's handgun. Two more of the infernal birds met their end in the same manner, but there were just too many to shoot. There were dozens, hundreds of crows, impossible to fight off.
"Forget it! There's too many of them!" yelled Amber. "Just run!"
Renée reached the same conclusion. She abandoned the fight and ran.
"Where we runnin' to?" yelled Jack.
"Never mind to, just concentrate on what we're running from!" Amber yelled back.
In the middle of the road, surrounded by construction barriers and hastily downed tools, was an open manhole.
"Get in, quickly! We can take cover in the sewers," ordered Christina.
Renée climbed into the manhole first, at Lisa and Amber's insistence. Amber followed, just as a cloud of black, flapping, feathered death engulfed the other three.
Christina was shooting at the crows, and Lisa was beating away the feathered fiends with her backpack, screaming defiance. They were succeeding for now, but it was only a matter of time before the crows would get them.
"Forget this," said Christina. "It's pointless. Just get in."
"But - " protested Lisa.
"Now!"
Jack had just climbed into the hole and was trying to find a foothold on the slippery rungs of the ladder that led into the sewers. Losing patience, Christina stepped on his fingers.
With a yell, Jack lost his grip and plunged into the blackness. Christina grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and threw her in after him, ignoring the younger girl's screams. She climbed in herself, pulled the manhole cover over the hole so that the crows couldn't follow them in, and dropped down into the utter darkness of the sewers.