23: So Close But So Far Away

Against all probability, it seemed to be getting darker in the sewers.

"How long we been down here?" said Jack. "Must be at least an hour since we lose Amber."

"Two hours, actually," said Lisa, after checking her watch. "It's coming up to nine o'clock now."

"Must be dark topside," Jack commented.

Lisa nodded. She wasn't sure she wanted to leave the sewers any more, if it was dark at ground level too. They'd only be exchanging one set of horrors for another. She didn't know what was worse – zombies, dogs and crows or spiders, leeches and the things with the long tongues.

"I no can believe we been down here that long," said Jack.

"I can't believe it's taken us nine hours just to get this far," said Lisa. "Nine hours! And we're not even there yet! Normally we'd have got there in, well, an hour or two, tops."

"Yeah, but normally we dunt have to find ammo, fight zombies, run away from dogs, have to find ways round barricades, climb over the barricades when that dunt work, spend time tryin' to hotwire a car, rescue people, get attacked by crows, hide in the sewers, an' get lost underground for hours 'cause we dunt know where we be goin'," Jack reminded her. "All things considered, we ain't doin' too badly. An' at least - "

There was a distant rumble, and the ground started to shake.

"What the hell…?" said Jack, and pressed both hands to the low ceiling so he wouldn't be thrown off his feet. Lisa, who was shorter than Jack and couldn't quite reach the ceiling, clung onto Jack instead.

Then, as suddenly as they'd started, the tremors stopped and the rumbling died away.

"Whatever that was, I'm guessing it's not good," said Lisa, letting go of Jack. "Do you think we'd better move? I have a nasty feeling that the ground's about to give way beneath us and we're going to fall to our doom."

Jack wasn't listening. He was running his hand over the ceiling just above him, frowning a little.

"You're not listening," said Lisa. "I said - "

"Lise, quit gripin'," said Jack. "I think I just find us a manhole. Pass the flashlight, yeah?"

"Here," said Lisa, holding the flashlight out. "Although I don't see why you need a flashlight to open a manhole."

"I never open a manhole b'fore, 'specially not from underneath," Jack replied, taking the flashlight from Lisa's hand. "I wanna make sure I dunt spend the next ten minutes pushin' when all the time I shoulda pulled, or somethin' dumb like that."

"Fair enough," said Lisa.

As Jack struggled to open the heavy iron cover, Lisa let her thoughts wander a little.

Well, this whole sewer thing was a complete waste of time. Yes, admittedly it got us away from the crows, but then we lost the other three somewhere. We'll probably never find them again. We don't even know if they're still alive. The mercenaries are probably fine, they've got plenty of guns and they're good at killing monsters. But Amber, well, she's all alone and scared senseless and she doesn't even have any weapons. I don't think she's going to make it out of here unless she finds Christina and Renée again. I hope she's all right… I still feel bad about leaving her.

There was a sudden rush of air – Jack had succeeded in opening the manhole.

"At last," said Lisa gratefully. "We're getting out of these lousy sewers. Anything nasty up there, Jack?"

Jack climbed up, stuck his head out of the manhole, and took a quick look around. He was relieved to see that all was quiet on the western front. There were absolutely no zombies, dogs, crows, giant spiders or any other variation on the theme of terrifying monsters to be seen anywhere.

"No," he called down, "Coast be clear."

"Right. You first."

Jack hauled himself up and out of the sewers. Lisa followed suit, keen to leave the dank, smelly sewers behind.

It was good to be out in the fresh air again. Admittedly, the air wasn't that fresh – there was a fire burning further along the street – but after the stench of the tunnels below, the smoke-filled air smelled like perfume.

"So where are we now?" said Lisa.

"Well, I ain't sure. It all look so diff'rent in the dark. But the trolley cars run past here, look," said Jack, pointing. "An' you can see the clock tower from here, too. We must be gettin' close now."

"Well, that's something, at least," said Lisa. "Umbrella's headquarters are quite close to the old hospital, and the old hospital's behind St Michael's Clock Tower. So if we can get to the clock tower from here, that's the worst part of the journey over."

She felt her spirits lift.

We're almost there…

"How come everythin' in town be called after Michael?" asked Jack.

"Sorry?" said Lisa, snapping out of her thoughts.

"I mean, we got St Michael Clock Tower, St Michael Catholic High where all my amigos used to go, an' we got that Michael Festival this month… what be up with that?" said Jack.

"Oh, that's the Mayor's doing," said Lisa, rolling her eyes. "Mayor Michael Warren. Mister Mayor has an ego the size of Arkansas, you see. I don't think any further explanation is required."

"So he name everythin' after himself? Jeez. What a poser," said Jack, disgusted. "What kind of big-headed idiot we got runnin' this town, anyway?"

"Someone who's an even bigger idiot than the people who keep voting for him in every election," said Lisa. "And don't look at me. My parents voted for the other guy. They said he was a stupid, arrogant, pompous twit who could barely get his big head to fit through doorways – but at least he wasn't as bad as Michael Warren."

"Huh. Yeah," said Jack, with a snort. "You remember the time he an' the Chief of Police try to drive all the whores outta town? My aunt dint speak English, but whenever she get real mad she always try to, like some people curse in other languages. An' boy, did she speak English to him that day!"

"What did she say?" said Lisa.

"She tell the Mayor she know every scarlet woman in town, an' she know exactly what his son be doin' every Friday night," said Jack simply. "That shut him up real good."

"I bet it did," said Lisa, repressing the urge to giggle. "Serves him right for throwing his weight around. You know what my father always used to say? "The problem with God is he thinks he's Michael Warren"."

But even as Jack laughed, Lisa felt a sense of dread steal over her. She'd said "used to". She was already using the past tense when referring to her father…

"Let's go," she said suddenly, and started walking again.

They trod cautiously through the darkened streets, which now seemed as alien to them as the dark side of the moon. Fires burned in place of the streetlights, casting a warm orange glow over everything and lighting up the darkness of the new night.

"You know, I always thought it was meant to be warmer underground," Lisa mused aloud. "Personally I think it was colder in the sewers than it is up here. What do you think?"

"Yeah," said Jack, who wasn't really listening.

"Well, articulacy never was your strong point, Jack," said Lisa.

She'd meant the remark as a joke, but even as the final word escaped her lips Lisa realised it had been a mistake. Too late, she remembered how the other uptown kids made fun of the way he spoke, and how sensitive he was about it.

Oh no, oh no, what have I done? Oh please don't let him have heard that… she thought desperately.

But Jack had heard her. On any other day, he would have let a remark like that pass without comment – after all, he'd patiently soaked up cruel insults for years without so much as flinching. But he was cold, tired, hungry and scared, still grieving for his aunt, and now he'd been hurt by someone he loved. He could have coped with everything else, but that thoughtless, hurtful remark… it was like being slapped in the face and stabbed in the back and having his heart torn out, all at once.

"Great," said Jack bitterly. "Thanks, Lise. Thanks a lot. It ain't my fault I spend most of my life no speakin' English 'cause my aunt dunt understand it, an' I forget most of it 'cause I dint speak it every day like you people in los Estados Unidos."

"Jack, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - " Lisa began.

"I do my best to try an' speak good English, an' you always tell me I no should try 'cause you like the way I talk!" said Jack indignantly. "But now all of a sudden you say it ain't good enough! So what the hell I be meant to do?"

He was so blinded by rage, so intent on unleashing every ounce of the hurt and anger and resentment bottled up inside him, that he didn't even see the tears filling his friend's eyes. All he cared about was hurting someone, anyone – even the person he loved most.

"Maybe I should just speak Spanish, huh? But no, you dunt understand that, do you?" said Jack savagely. "Whatever I do, it never be good enough for anybody! An' now even you be on my case!"

"Jack - "

"I thought you be the only person who understand. Guess I thought wrong, dint I? You dunt understand at all. You dunt even care. You be just like all the other uptown girls, you spiteful, two-faced bitch!"

Tears were running down Lisa's cheeks, and her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Maybe I got it wrong all the time an' you ain't my friend after all. You hate me too. Just like everyone else hate me," said Jack, quietly this time.

"No!"

And it was only then that the red mist finally cleared and the rage drained away. Lisa was sobbing openly now, not even trying to hide her tears, and Jack realised just how much he'd upset her. Even when she'd cried with fear at the beginning of their escape attempt, she'd had enough pride left to try and stop herself from breaking down.

Guilt and shame filled the space that the anger had left inside him. Look what you did to her. To Lise, you best friend. The girl you love. How could you? You oughta be ashamed, Jack.

He'd made her cry. He'd actually made her cry.

"Lise…" said Jack, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Lise, I dint mean to yell at you like that. If I think I would make you cry, I never would – oh, jeez, I be sorry. Please forgive me."

But Lisa was crying too much to speak. Not really knowing what else to do, Jack put both arms around her, and hoped that she wouldn't push him away. He certainly wouldn't have blamed her if she had pushed him away – but instead Lisa buried her face in his chest with a small sob, and let him hold her.

"Sorry, Lise," Jack murmured, stroking her hair. "Sorry. All this stuff… it be real hard. But I no should take it out on you. It ain't you fault. You dint do nothin' wrong."

"I shouldn't have said it," said Lisa, through the tears. "I'm sorry."

"No, I be sorry. You ain't spiteful or two-faced," said Jack. "You be the nicest, sweetest girl in the whole world, an' a stupid jackass like me dunt deserve a friend like you. You mean more to me than anythin', Lise."

As Lisa's sobs gradually subsided, it occurred to Jack that they'd never been happy in each other's arms. Whenever they held each other, it was because they were sad. He wanted to change that.

"Mi amiga, mi ángel," he murmured. "Sorry I make you cry, querida. Te amo."

"Jack, you said it yourself; I don't understand Spanish," said Lisa, looking up at him. "You promised to teach me once, though, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Jack, remembering his first encounter with Lisa at Raccoon City High School. "Yeah, I did, dint I?"

"All right," said Lisa. "So teach me."

"Where you want me to start?" said Jack, a little surprised by the request.

"Start with mi amiga. What does that mean?"

"My friend."

"Mi ángel?"

"My angel."

Lisa smiled at that, and Jack felt his heart melt. She was so beautiful when she smiled – of course, she was beautiful all the time, whether she was smiling or not, but she was at her best when there was a smile on her face.

"What about querida?" she said.

Now Jack felt himself start to blush.

"Darling," he admitted.

"And te amo?" said Lisa.

"I think you learn enough for now," said Jack hastily, regretting his decision to teach Lisa Spanish. "Te amo" meant "I love you", and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know that just yet. If she didn't feel the same way, it would wreck everything…

"No, please. Tell me," said Lisa eagerly. "I want to know."

She looked up him with big, innocent brown eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, even though they were slightly pink from crying. But then everything about her was beautiful, from the smooth, creamy silk of her skin to the light in her eyes and the way her long hair framed her face.

And here she was, the girl of his dreams, standing right here in his arms and asking him what "I love you" meant. Well, perhaps he could show her. If words failed him, he could still express emotion without the aid of sound. Her face was so very close to his – it would be so easy just to close the distance and let his lips meet hers.

It was certainly very tempting.

Kiss Lisa.

The more Jack thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Even his deep fear of rejection paled into insignificance. After all, Lisa knew he'd called her "darling" and she hadn't turned away in disgust. She was still here in his arms, still smiling her sweet smile, and she seemed remarkably eager to find out what his terms of endearment meant. For the very first time, it occurred to Jack that maybe, just maybe, Lisa wanted him too…

Lisa didn't know what to do. Her parents would probably kill Jack if they found out that he had so much as breathed on her, and then they'd probably kill her for allowing him to get that close to her. Besides, she was scared of ruining a wonderful friendship by starting up a relationship that might well be doomed because of their differences.

On the other hand, he was gorgeous. She couldn't take her eyes off him; and then she couldn't take her eyes away from his. She didn't want to, either. All she wanted was to stand there forever and gaze into those deep sky-blue eyes, beautiful eyes filled with warmth and love.

He loved her. She knew that now. And she was beginning to have a vague idea of what te amo meant. But all the same, she wanted to know. Forget my parents, she thought. What they don't know about won't hurt them. And they don't need to know about this.

"So," said Lisa softly, "What does te amo mean, anyway?"

"You wanna know?" said Jack. He felt curiously light-headed, as if he was in a dream and not in the real world at all.

"Yes," said Lisa, raising her hand and touching Jack's cheek without even thinking about what she was doing.

Jack felt his pulse quicken as her fingertips gently caressed his face. Her touch was lighter than air, but it burned like fire and ice; it was an odd but not altogether unpleasant sensation.

"Really?" he said, shivering a little as one of Lisa's delicate fingers traced the outline of his lips. It was unnerving how she seemed to know exactly how to drive him crazy – with one touch she could make him want her so much that he ached all over. If he didn't get to kiss her this time, he thought, he would go insane. No, he would die.

"Yes."

And though they were so close, their lips just inches apart, to Jack the tiny gap between them was like a yawning, empty space that went on for miles. He almost felt like screaming out loud. This was just too much. How could she torment him like this? Did she have the faintest idea of what she was doing to him?

Kiss me, Lise, please kiss me, kiss me, kiss me… I want you… kiss me…

Still she hesitated, and a brief but endless space remained between them and true happiness.

"Okay, Lise," said Jack. "Te amo means - "

The plan was to kiss her, then complete the sentence: "- I love you." Simple, effective and sweet. And if he was mistaken after all and the kiss was seen as an unwelcome advance, then Plan B was to fall dead at her feet from heartbreak and shame.

But things didn't turn out as expected. Jack's lips had barely brushed against Lisa's when a dark, ominous shadow fell over them. Startled, they both turned round, and looked into the face of evil personified.

Standing before them, like the demon king from a pantomime, was the creature from Lisa's nightmare – the one that had picked up Jack as though he weighed nothing and thrown him straight into the pond in Raccoon Park.

It looked exactly as Lisa remembered it; an immense man-shaped creature that looked as if it had been buried for weeks. Eyes that didn't see, a lipless mouth with teeth permanently bared, and an aura of pure and unadulterated malevolence emanating from it like a toxic cloud.

For a moment, they could do nothing but stare. Then Jack said, very quietly:

"Oh, shit."