Resident Evil: The Final Chapter

Chapter 24: All Over Again Part 1

A/N: I got one review for the last chapter. And I ain't even got a review from my two most faithful reviewers? Man…Lol. Wow. I hope I'm really not lacking that much…I know the reviews are slow, but you got to remember I'm working on my schedule, not yours. I can't update three times a week, as much as I'd like to, and as much as I know you all would like me too. I'm really sorry, but I'm trying my hardest. My grades are super-low (four F's, a D, one A and the rest are mostly C's), and I've just been plain old busy. You gotta' remember, it's the holidays. I've been busy since last Wednesday, just ain't had time. But I already have a good portion of the next chapter done to be happy lol.

But maybe that's not what it is? Maybe it's the substance of the story itself? Are the chapters not good enough? Am I lacking in anything? If so please, please, PLEASE, tell me! Gimme' reviews and tell me if anything's wrong with the stories. Tell me what I need to put in, and what I need to pull out. I don't care if their flames, those will help me improve. So PLEASE tell me if anything's on your mind.

Quick Note: In between scene changes I've put numbers, this is the time they have left until the missiles are fired. (Remember, they are on a set timer) The times may not seem accurate, for say the numbers are 1:01:56 (Hours: Minutes: Seconds, and a scene suggests that at least ten minutes passed, but the next set if numbers read 0:58:34. That's because the scenes don't exactly happen one after another, and could be happening during the previous scene. This may be confusing, but as you read on you'll understand. (Hopefully)

So, as usual, please enjoy the next chapter and please review!

Spate heard Wesker shouting just five minutes after the last shots were fired. Judging by the ferocity in Wesker's voice, and by the firefight that occurred somewhere on this level (there was nothing on this level that could take so many shots), Spate was almost certain that Glitter was dead.

Spate only closed his eyes again. He felt no remorse for that woman, for what she'd become. He hoped he could sleep again, but he wasn't that fortunate. The gunshots had woken him and since then he listened to the firefight, which led him to where he was now: lying in a bed, but not asleep.

Spate wondered if he'd hear Wesker again…He doubted it, he'd probably gone off to find her killers. They killers had to be the group that he let in, so in a sense it was his fault that Glitter was killed. No repentance came. But, if they died, if the innocent ones died, he would feel guilty. If they died, it would be because of a chain of reactions that he set off, starting at when he let them inside.

And in a sense -no, without a doubt- they were the only people who could change the fate of the world. Without them, Wesker's world of insanity would come…

Does this mean that I have to help them…? If I do, will I die? That's a foolish question, of course I will! Anyone in his way will be killed, that includes me regardless of what I've done for him. Wesker can easily find a new scientist to work on his experiments, hell; he's capable of it himself. Maybe…maybe it's my fate…

Spate turned onto his side and tried to erase it from his mind. He wasn't a fighter…

…But I can help them…

Spate sat up in his bed and nodded inwardly then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Taking in a breath, his mind set, Spate started to the door. He didn't have a plan, but had a goal and he would do whatever he could to ensure that it was reached.

Rebecca, the youngest of the six in the staircase and also the most highly trained in the medical field, was checking his wound when they heard someone yell. The reaction was instant, and Jill was yelling for them to move. The person sounded very close, and if their luck was bad enough it was probably who he thought it was. Wesker.

Billy pushed himself up off the ground, shaking a hand at Rebecca as she offered to help him, and started up the steps two at a time. His arm was hurting like hell but he'd survive. In his right hand he held the magnum, the M-16 was probably near useless since it would be easier to fit a cube into a circular slot then it would to get an accurate shot off with one arm. He'd handed it to Leon just before Rebecca checked his arm.

They went up what seemed endless stairs. Although he took them two at a time, it seemed he was moving in slow motion. He wondered what exactly this Wesker guy was capable of, but didn't want to find out. Judging by how Jill was acting, and by what he'd heard of him living through two explosions-one of which occurred in Raccoon City-, he had to be pretty damn tough.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Billy stopped and listened, heard Jill shouting something above cracks of nine-millimeter rounds. The shooter-most likely Jill-stopped shooting momentarily. It was just long enough for him to hear something screeching. Billy pulled the magnum out with his good arm and started up the stairs. Ashley was standing on the steps, and he could see Leon standing on the landing above with his back to him.

Billy maneuvered past Ashley swiftly, and was at Leon's side in a heartbeat. Jill was on one knee a foot or so in front of Leon, both were firing off rounds like crazy. Billy then focused his attention on what they were shooting, and saw that there were four-legged creatures crawling through a doorway. Each creature was about the size of a average sized adult male, they were skinned, and their brains were exposed-

Like the creatures that killed Greg!

Billy raised the magnum and aimed carefully, awkwardly noticing the sign above the door that read F2 before he fired off a round. It made mush of one of the things' brains and it fell, dead, but two more took its place as they started crawling through the door less doorway. There was something else past the doorway, a large black thing, it appeared to be dead and he was relieved for that.

"There's too many!" Leon yelled. "Ashley, Rebecca, run down the hall, we'll cover you!"

Billy started firing again, picking his shots carefully-tat-atat-atat-atat-tat. Leon rattled off M-16 rounds, swinging the muzzle of the gun to the left and right, speckling the creatures in small bloody holes. Billy saw out of the corners of his eye the petite forms of Ashley and Rebecca as they ran down the hallway.

Next to go was Jill, confirming his theory that they'd file down the hall one-by-one. She ran, and Billy and Leon continued firing.

"Go!"

Not a second thought came, and Billy was running down the hall. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Leon taking something off of his belt, something blue-and there was a blinding flash that obstructed his vision-replaced it with white. He felt something grab his arm-his bad arm-and pull on him, hauling him down the hall. Billy ignored the pain, and would have wondered if he was blind if his vision hadn't returned.

Up ahead, he saw Rebecca smacking on a button on the wall by a door. By the time he and Leon reached the apparently locked door, it slid open and they stumbled into an entirely white room. Before he could ask why their other six comrades were lying on the ground a few feet in front of him, a large metal sheet slammed down over their only visible exit and something started floating down from the ceiling that made him start coughing.

Before long, he was falling, physically, and mentally. He hit the floor hard with his right knee, and took a final look around- saw Leon catch Ashley just before falling-and then darkness.

2:14:00

Something threatened to wake her, but she resisted and rolled onto her other side. Instantly she was rewarded with a splash of water as she fell into the warm liquid. Tara sprung back up almost instantly, and fell backwards on her rear as a result. Red from the setting sun shone through spaces in the trees' leaves, and illuminated the small creak she sat in.

The creak was about five feet wide and traveled as far as she could see from where she sat. Suddenly the realization that something very wrong had happened hit her like a smack in the face. She was in a forest, rich with greenery and gorgeous shrubs; she had been in a creepy laboratory filled with monsters.

"What the hell happened?" She thought aloud. There was movement to her right, on the slightly elevated land that she had fallen off of. From her sitting position, her sight was precisely level with the ground to her right. She could see a form…the form of Jeff. "Jeff!" Tara scrambled to her feet, water splashing wildly as she did so, and she climbed back up from where she fell and ran to his side.

He was awake when she got there; all the noise must have woke him, and he was already asking what happened. Tara only shook her head; it was the only answer she could conjure up. She hadn't the slightest idea of how they got here. She started to remember faintly what happened, falling asleep inside that big white room that stretched on forever…and now this? Am I dead?

"Are we dead?" Jeff asked, sitting up. Tara laughed at the huge coincidence. "What?" He demanded, confused. She realized the oddness of finding any sort of humor in this coincidence. Tara shook her head in response. She then noticed the handgun lying beside him. What the hell had happened? If they'd been moved somewhere else, why was his handgun right there?

Jeff must have caught her eyes and he picked up the handgun and stood up, tucking it into the front of his pants he looked to her and asked where hers was. She patted her pockets reflexively -there was no way the tight pants could hold a handgun- then checked her holster. It was gone. Tara turned around and walked toward the creak to where she had fallen in her sleep. As she thought, it was there, lying in the mud on the bank of the creak close to where she'd woken.

Tara jumped down into the mud, her boots immediately sinking into it. A few squelching steps and she squatted down to retrieve the firearm. She realized that the water had made her pants uncomfortably tight-tighter-as she did this, and she made a mental note that she'd wear looser pants next time she decided to roll into a creak. With the help of Jeff, Tara climbed back out of the creak and she looked around for a moment. Trees, trees, and more trees; not like that was problem. It was just that she expected to see metal walls, and fluorescent lights hanging from ceilings. Not a serene meadow with sunshine and colorful plants.

"You stay here, I'm going to go see what I can find." Jeff said, as if he expected her not to say no to that…that sure didn't happen.

"I'm coming with you, Jeff." She stated plainly, already thinking of something else to say if she needed to.

He shook his head, she was surprised. "Stay here, maybe one of the others will come. I'll be back in ten minutes tops, promise."

Tara hesitated, wondering if he'd actually be safe. She wondered what was to be found deeper in the forest…Nothing was the most likely answer. If there were something, they'd probably have been eaten while they were sleeping already.

"Okay." Tara replied with a nod. "Ten minutes get your ass back here in ten."

Jeff laughed. "Gotcha'." And he was disappearing into the trees.

2:11:00

The smell of salty water was what woke her, along with the mist that came off of the waves that broke against the rock shore. She sat up, feeling somewhat dizzy, and a bit tired. Soft material filled the space between her fingers, and she found out quickly that it was sand. She was sitting on a shoreline that seemed to stretch endlessly. A few blotches of grass popped up in the sand, and a few yards away the sand turned into dirt, which turned into grass, which turned into a wall of rock. At the top of the wall she could see the green tops of trees- and Leon was lying a few feet away.

Ashley crawled over to him quickly, hard to get any grounding in the sand with her knees as she scrambled toward him. Once there she started saying his name and shaking him. He woke finally, and she started explaining what she thought was true.

"We're on an island, Leon!"

She saw the shock and confusion that was inside of her, reflected in his hazel eyes. She was sure her own eyes did something to that effect. Ashley removed her black jacket, she wore a sleeveless black shirt underneath that exposed the littlest amount of midriff, and tied the jacket around her waist. By the time she was done, the shock and confusion in his eyes had turned into…fear?

"What?" She asked, a bit worried.

"We're on a island." Leon stated flatly.

"D'oh…" Ashley mumbled, a grin bending the corners of her thin lips.

Leon shook his head and grabbed her shoulders, directed her toward a hole in the side of the mountain. Next to the entrance was a ragged red flag, turned somewhat pink from being weathered, that blew in the wind. The Los Illuminados insignia was printed clearly on the worn flag.

No way…

They were back on the island…Impossible! No! This was a dream! The dumb, rotting, zombies were bad, but the Ganados-or whatever they were called- were worse. They were smart, not dumb lingering cannibals. What happened? Why were they here? Where were the others? How'd they get here? Was this a dream? Or…was everything else a dream? Impossible! She told herself.

"Look," Leon said, pointing toward where the cave and flag was, "There's something above the entrance." Ashley looked, followed his finger, and saw what he was pointing at. It looked like a sign of some sort. "Let's go check it out." She nodded and he scooped up his shotgun-the extra rounds the handgun and extra clips were in his utility belt-and they started toward the cave.

The sand worked against her as she walked across the beach, each step needing a little extra something to keep her moving. It was hot, and she hated every minute of it. It was hot, that equaled frustration; and they were suddenly back in Europe, and that equaled fear. Together, it made for a pretty stressing situation. Ashley brushed feverishly at loose bangs that hung down her face-she loved her hair but right now it was adding to the hassle. She half-noticed that the ground beneath her feet had gotten harder, relieving a bit of stress.

The sign turned out to be a digital timer. It read 2:09:23, and was ticking away slowly. She remembered what Glitter had said, about missiles being launched in about two hours. Leon seemed to have remembered also, he mentioned it and she only nodded gravely, fearing something bad was about to happen.

"We can't be far from where we were…we were on a island, yes, but it didn't have any mountains around it. Something's very weird about this…" Leon said, studying the red digital numerals. "And this sure wasn't at the island back in Europe, so we're not there. It's like a replica of the island or something."

Ashley was only listening with half an ear, and he rattled on while she strained to see what was under a small rock a few feet away by the cave entrance. It was a piece of paper, she was sure of it.

"-Hey!" Ashley pointed toward the paper, cutting him off and she ran over to it. It didn't take much of a struggle to lift the rock, and by the time he was at her side she was reading the paper aloud.

"Information Regarding Your Current Situation. You are currently participating in a virtual simulator created solely for the purpose of analyzing the performance of BOW's. The environment may seem legitimate, but be aware of the fact that it is totally computerized with state of the art equipment that gives it the look, feel, even smell and taste of the true substances. You are warned that the environment is the only thing that is fake. Any, and all creatures that you encounter are real; they are very real. Be aware that your life hangs in the balance of your understanding of this situation. On your trek, you must find a key, and a locked door. This will allow you to escape. (This door will be bright red in color to identify which door you must escape through) Ammunition for the firearms we have provided you with has also been placed throughout the simulation. Good luck." Ashley read with confusion piled up in her mind. When she finished, Ashley turned to Leon with a cocked eyebrow. "So this is a simulation?"

Leon nodded. "I guess so. Seems very real though…Guess they really meant state of the art computer equipment…" Ashley followed Leon's gaze to the entrance of the cave. He must have been thinking about proceeding…

"It's probably really dangerous…" Ashley said, thinking ahead to what may happen. Zombies, monsters, more zombies, more monsters-

"It's the only way, Ashley." Leon said, cutting her thoughts off. She was thankful for that, and she knew he was right.

"Okay…let's go."

2:06:00

His head was suddenly throbbing, and he realized he was regaining his consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly, his brain feeling with what he saw. Concrete walls and floors, two jail cells, a single light buzzing overhead dimly, and a small wooden desk and chair.

Steve sat up, perhaps a bit to fast and his head hurt a tad bit more. He felt at the right side of his face numbly. It was somewhat sensitive to the touch, so he didn't bother it any longer and stood up. That Wesker guy must have put us to sleep and locked us away. Like a slap in the face, his guess was rejected by the most blatant reason it couldn't be true-he wasn't locked in a cell and his weapons lie a few feet away.

That's weird- And there was Claire also. She was just starting to stir from her forced slumber so he grabbed his firearms, slung the M-16 over his right shoulder and tucked the handgun into it's holster on his right hip, and started searching while she slowly recovering her consciousness.

"Steve?" She asked weakly from behind him, and he didn't turn to her, only kept looking. There was a door, the only in the room. It was metal, rusted, and looked sturdy. Atop the desk lay a clip for a handgun that substituted as a paperweight that held a paper down to the desk. "Steve?" She repeated. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Steve answered, ignoring her first question because he hadn't conjured up an answer for that just yet. She didn't say anything else so he moved over to the note that lay under the clip. He pocketed the clip and picked the paper up to begin reading it.

Information Regarding Your Current Situation. You are currently participating in a virtual simulator created solely for the purpose of analyzing the performance of BOW's. The environment may seem legitimate-

"We're on Rockfort." Steve stopped reading the paper and looked at her. How the hell did she come up with that idea?

"Rockfort's long gone Claire. No way we're on Rockfort. Besides, that's pretty damn far away and-"

"-Steve, this is the room I was held in!" Steve studied her and wondered if she'd lost it. After dieing and coming back alive, maybe her brain got fried and she'd lost any sense of reality. "Hey! I'm being serious, Steve!" She must have been able to read his expression perfectly. He could feel himself grinning at how foolish she sounded. "Steve!"

"Alright, alright." He said submissively, "We're on Rockfort, okay. We're on an island that was blown to hell, not to mention an island thousands of miles away from where we were…come on Claire, how can that be possible? I mean really…Besides, I think I found out what this place is." Steve extended the typewritten paper to her and she started to read it. He could read her expressions perfect-she was confused.

"We're inside of some sort of testing grounds for the B.O.W.'s…" Steve said, and she nodded. "That can't be good-oh. I found a clip over here, ya need one?"

Claire shook her head, quickly shrugging off his question and started talking about what was on the paper. "It says that they've provided ammunition for us…I guess that's good. It also says there's a key around here somewhere that unlocks the door that'll get us out of here."

"Yeah but how many doors you think are in this place? I'm sure there's not just one door. And going around trying every door will take awhile, may even be dangerous."

Claire shook her head again. "Says here that the door will be painted bright red."

Steve nodded. "Okay."

"We should get going." Claire said, folding the paper up and shoving it into her back pocket. "The others might have started already, we might be able to catch up with them if we hurry."

"Okay." Steve repeated. "Let's get going."

They started toward the door, the rusted door, and as he pushed it open and let her through she glanced at his face. She frowned at it, and he was pretty sure he'd go the same thing. He hadn't seen it yet, but could only imagine what it looked like.

"Your head okay, Steve?" Claire asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Alright, let's go then." Claire led the way through a narrow corridor and up some steps. There was no door at the top, only a doorway. But above it hung a black screen that displayed red digital numerals that read 2:01:23. Claire looked at him with a confused expression, and they both shrugged it off and stepped outside. Steve took a breath, and removed the handgun from its holster just as a feral scream shattered the silence of the cool night.

2:07:00

Chris' handgun clicked dry and he cursed himself as they came closer. Slowly, they were forming a circle around him. If he didn't move quickly he'd be trapped. Barry was shooting his gun like a madman some twenty yards away as carriers attempted to get to him.

How do I get stuck with all the zombies in the city, while he's got two or three of 'em on his ass!

Chris turned and ran, ejecting the empty magazine as he did so and fumbling to grab another. Before he could jam it home, a zombie reached out for him. Chris dodged it by spinning, and dodged a few more by ducking, stopping and side stepping, jumping to the right, left, almost like he was playing football and every man on the field wanted the ball. His luck ran out as one lunged right at him, no way he could dodge, and so he swung the handgun with all of his might. The zombie gasped in agony as the handle of the handgun crushed its forehead.

Chris didn't stick around; he kept running. There was a car up ahead, the only on the block that wasn't up in flames, if only he could get to it, he'd be safe. The right side of the car was blocking a dark alleyway; maybe if he could get inside, he could escape through the passenger door and into the alley. Zombies could climb, but it'd take them a little while to get over the car. And by that time he'd be gone.

A few running steps later, and he was praying that the doors were unlocked because the zombies were getting closer. He'd be trapped, doomed. Chris smacked a new clip in and kept running. Luckily he'd found a magazine (he would have been out of handgun ammo if it weren't for his find) just shortly after waking up, along with a note that said something about a simulation. Everything pretty much went to hell after that.

Back to the task on hand, he figured he could always jump over the car if it was locked, but some were already getting close to the vehicle. Please don't be locked! Chris collided with the car, unable to stop, but he'd already regained his composure and was scrambling to open the door.

There was a gasping sound behind him; he looked over his shoulder and saw a zombie running-well sort of-toward him, wobbling like a penguin. Its arms were stretched out, mouth wide open, hungry for flesh. Chris found the door handle- it was a hard task to do in the pitch black- and he was diving inside, throwing the heavy Remington 12-Guage in with himself. The zombie's arms made it inside the car with him, and Chris grabbed the door and smashed its arm. Once, twice, three times, until its arm was just a useless limb made of flesh and obliterated bone. The zombie finally moved it's arm and Chris could close the door, reflexively locking it.

Thump.

A zombie was looking into the driver side window, scratching at the glass.

Thump. Thump.

More of them, two, three, four more, surrounded the car. One threw itself onto the hood and was attempting to eat through the windshield. It smeared some sort of fluids across the glass that shimmered in the pale moonlight. Chris felt sick at the sight of the drooling creature. Chris swallowed hard; pushing the image of the drooling creature out of his mind, and tucked the handgun into its holster-and an arm broke through the driver side window.

"Shit!"

Chris scrambled over to the passenger seat and took a deep breath. He searched by feel for the door handle while watching the zombie's arms grope at the darkness uselessly. Hah! There you are! Later suckers! But the door didn't budge, not at all. He searched for the lock, found it, but it was already unlocked. He tried the handle again and pushed all of his weight against it, but nothing. The damn door's broken? Son of a bitch!

Crunch.

The windshield was cracked; he hadn't even noticed the drooling zombie pounding on the window, he was too busy with the door. Chris grabbed the shotgun and retreated into the back seat as more hands broke through the glass and the rear window. Chris fell, half in the floor, and half on the seat. He crawled up onto the seat and searched for the door handle. Nothing.

Chris groped at the door for a bit longer-thump. One of the carriers dropped into the back seat from the back window, and was clawing at his pant leg. Chris shook his leg loose and kicked at the creature once, twice, three times until the zombie's face was smashed in and a bloody mess. This didn't stop it, and it lunged forward again, and Chris kicked it again. This time there was a loud splintering crack, and its lower jaw had broken, now hanging limply from the bottom of its skull.

The creature fell backwards, a thump as the back of its skull collided with the door opposite the one Chris was leaning against. Arms of carriers, about four pairs of them, were groping at the darkness, even grabbing at their own, thinking it was Chris. The zombie didn't stay down. They never stayed down. It was never that easy. The thing sat up and moaned, thick liquid dripping from its broken lower jaw.

"Screw you!" Chris kicked the zombie chest, forcing it back against the door. This time he made sure it didn't get back up as the carriers head was caught between the bottom of Chris' boot, and the door. The result was gruesome, as its head was crushed like a rotten pumpkin under someone's foot, but at the same time was somehow satisfying. Before he could move to get out of the car, more zombies were half inside the car, squeezing in through the broken back window.

Cruuuunch!

"…Sweet Lord…" Chris pushed himself away as the gore-smeared door was ripped off of its hinges and they started piling inside. The zombies growled, moaned, and grabbed for him. One of them fell into the backseat and on top of his legs, soon after, more piled in on top of the first one, pinning him to the seat. Luckily none tried to bite him, except one that started pulling itself up closer to Chris' face.

"Eat this asshole!" Chris reached down into the floor and grabbed the shotgun and pumped it. As the creature sat up, legs on either side of Chris', its mouth open and ready to eat, Chris fired. The buckshot obliterated the creature's head, blood, tissue, brain, and bone went everywhere as the headless body fell back. Chris shot another as it did the same, the shot ripped through its chest, ribbons of crimson flying out, and causing the creature to tumble out of the car. Only one was left, and it was about to bite into his calf. Chris lifted the shotgun and slammed the stock of the shotgun down on its rotten head.

With one arm Chris searched for the door handle, the other aimed the shotgun at the nearest zombie. Yes! Chris found the door handle, and pulled it. The door opened up and he half-fell out, at the same time he found a zombie coming in the car and he fired. Again, the result was bloody, and the zombie gasped its final breath as Chris tumbled out of the car. He landed painfully on the back of his neck, but recovered quickly.

Scrambling to his feet, Chris saw a zombie poke its head out of the back seat. Goddamn their determined! Chris kicked the door closed, but it popped right back open and Chris kicked it again, and this time it closed completely and the head of the carrier fell out onto the ground with a thump. On cue, more arms broke through the windows, groping again at nothing. Chris shouldered the shotgun and pulled the handgun from its holster and shot the first head to appear. A hole exploded in the top of the zombie's cranium, and he fired another into the backseat for good measure.

A thought occurred to him as more arms appeared, and Chris was grabbing the incendiary grenade before he even thought his quick plan over. Chris pulled the pin and held the grenade tight, not wanting it to blow up. He jabbe dhis arm into the darkness and with his other hand fired a shot into a zombie's head. Chris released the grenade, turned, and fell-he didn't have time to run-and flames exploded inside of the car. The zombies wailed in pain as flames smoldered their bodies, ate away their skin, and made the air stink horribly.

Within a few seconds, it was over and Chris crawled to his feet. The door of the car was half-hanging open, allowing him to see at least a dozen crispy zombies inside. It seemed that he had killed them all…finally. A few fires still smoldered inside, but nothing too big. On the other side of the car he saw Barry.

"Could have told me you were okay." Barry said as loud as he dared, it wasn't like he cared to get any more attention from the zombies or whatever else was here.

Chris grinned slightly. "Sorry."

"Thought you blew yourself up or something." Barry climbed up onto the trunk of the car, onto the roof, and jumped down into the alley.

"We should get moving…" He didn't want to though. After all that he felt extremely worn out. He'd much rather find somewhere to curl up into a ball and fall asleep. But the task at hand called for much more then that. No way could they rest, not until they found out just exactly how to get out of this testing ground that strangely resembled Raccoon City just before it was blown to shit.

The air was still, musty, and had the faint odor of urine, gas, and smoke. It was dark, a storm looming somewhere, telephone poles were lying in the middle of streets, cars lie crushed on the streets like it was a junkyard, it was completely abandoned of anything living. But was abundant in the dead…the undead.

"Yeah. Let's get moving." Barry replied and Chris nodded. They both started down the dark alleyway, and he wondered if he truly was ready for what would come next.

2:05:00

She woke, feeling literally cooked, and sweating like a dog. The bright glare that burned her eyes as she opened them was that of a large blazing sun. Rebecca shielded her eyes; pain surged through them from the intense glow of the sun. When her eyes felt somewhat normal she lowered her arm and looked around. Hills along hills of sand surrounded her, nothing but sand could be seen in the distance. Intense heat rippled the air, sucking it dry of any moisture.

She started to ask where she was, how she got there, but quickly realized she had no one to ask. No one, no one at all, no one within probably tens, maybe hundreds of miles. Rebecca stood up and immediately stripped herself of the black combat jacket. Underneath was a thankfully loose fitting, sleeveless, and thin shirt. But her pants though…The heavy black material that she'd picked out to wear, when they were traveling to George's where it was cold, would be sure to be a burden like no other. But at least they too, were loose fitting.

Next she removed her leather gloves, and that was all she could do without totally stripping herself of clothing to give her body some air. She stuffed them into her pocket, and slung the jacket over her shoulder. Rebecca sighed, and absent-mindedly thought that it was a good thing she had forgotten her bandanna in the plane that had crashed on Wesker's island, and she started walking.

It was all she could do, was walk. She pondered while she walked toward a low hill that was sloped slightly, just how she got here. She could remember being veiled in the sleeping gas, and wondered if for some reason Wesker decided to split them up all over the world. Or maybe they were all here in this desert, maybe it was the Sahara, he wanted them all to die slowly for trying to intervene. Maybe the missiles had already been fired, maybe the world was crumbling around her and she just didn't know it. If that was the truth she was partially happy to be here, isolated from the rest of the infected world. She'd much rather die here then be eaten alive.

She was watching the ground as she walked, the yellowish-white grains of sand covering the tips of her boots as she hiked up the small hill. It was much harder to climb then grass, took more energy to get good grounding in the sand. Suddenly she bumped into something and only caught a glimpse of a figure before she went tumbling backwards. Her world spun around her as she fell backwards, bounced a bit, and rolled down to the bottom of the hill.

Rebecca recovered quickly, and sprung to her feet. Her handgun was drawn and trained on the top of the hill, and she fired-at the same time someone yelled and she screamed too. Realizing whom it was she shot at; she feared she'd shot him. Billy dropped to his stomach, and she prayed that he dodged it.

Rebecca started up the hill, hollering his name the entire time. At the top she saw Billy lying on his back, breathing heavily. "Oh my, God! Billy! Are you okay?" Rebecca dropped to her knees to take a look at him, she continued rambling on, repeating the same three lines over and over. A grin broke out over his face, and he laughed at her. Suddenly she realized how panicked she was, and that he wasn't hurt at all. That made it just the more embarrassing. She could feel her cheeks reddening as she sunk back onto the backs of her legs.

"I'm fine…" Billy replied, still grinning. He sat up and looked at her. He was wearing a white muscle shirt, an undershirt she guessed because she remembered that he had worn a black t-shirt inside the plane. "I found something down there." Billy gestured down the other side of the hill, where he had come from she guessed. There was a lonely tree down there; a few leaves provided very little shade from the searing heat. Billy pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her.

Rebecca took it; it was a folded piece of paper, typewritten, about a paragraph or so long. She read over it, her brain quickly processing and taking in the words on the paper. "This place isn't real?" She was surprised. How could anyone duplicate the feel of a desert like this? The heat, the sun, and all of the sand.

Billy nodded. "My brain don't want to believe it, but I guess it's true."

"Says here it's a testing lab. Must be Umbrella's? Or maybe Wesker's?" Rebecca didn't mention the part about the B.O.W's that were supposed to be somewhere inside the simulation. She figured he'd already read over it, and mentioning such a thing really could put someone's spirits down.

He nodded again. "Yeah, it's weird. Why would they go to such lengths just to run tests, you know?"

"Umbrella's always been pretty wasteful I guess. Always making unnecessary things, mansions, mansions hidden inside labs, mansions…" Rebecca's voice trailed off and she laughed at her own joke, Billy did too.

"Yeah. And then they go and blow 'em all up. Really wasteful." Billy smirked.

"You find that door yet?" Rebecca asked, quickly getting back on task.

"Nah, but believe it or not I found the key." He started to dig into his pocket again.

"Really?" That was quick, and it would look like it'd be harder to find the key in the desert then it would to find a door. But then again…He answered her question by presenting a golden key, it was an antique key, all fancy and whatnot. Again, very like Umbrella, or Wesker. Whatever.

He pocketed it. "Yeah, guess we gotta' find that door next, huh?"

"Yeah…we aren't getting anything done sitting around, you know." Rebecca stated, adding a bit of a matter-of-fact accent to it.

"Yeah, what are we waiting for? Let's go for a nice hike through the Mojave!" Billy replied and jumped up to his feet. He extended a hand and she took it. He pulled her up like it was nothing, like he was lifting a stuffed animal. His large arms flexed as he did so, and she admired how good of shape he was in. And he looked young too, although he was probably thirty-four, give or take a few years.

Nothing else was said, there wasn't much else to say really, and so they just walked in silence through the fake sands.

2:01:00

They found two clips, luckily they were for the handguns they had, and a piece of paper that explained their situation. Sort of. They'd debated for a moment on what to do, Jill argued that they should stay and wait. See if the others turned up. Ada argued back that the place wasn't that big, and eventually they'd probably run into each other. Jill questioned her knowledge of the building, she was right that the Raccoon City Police Department was small, but how could she know? Ada replied by saying she'd been here seven years ago, briefly explained the situation, about her being an Umbrella spy.

Then Ada contradicted her own words by saying that on second hand, the RPD really wasn't that small if you included all of the secret passages that were there. Then she briefly explained that, and Jill didn't argue. Chief Irons always was a little abnormal…

"So we wait?" Jill asked, drawing up the conclusion from what was being said.

"Not too good of an idea. If you consider how big this place is, the chances of anyone stumbling in here are low. There are two floors above ground, and several below ground including laboratories. So I say we look around, we have lots of ammo left, and it says we could find more throughout the simulation. The odds of us finding someone are still low, but better then just sitting around." Ada replied as she pushed herself off of a table she was seated upon.

"…Alright." Jill said submissively. She did have a point. "Maybe someone else has already found that door, and the key."

Ada nodded. "Do you remember this place?"

"Not really, it's been a long time. I just know that this room leads out into the main hall. There's like…four doors out there, and a second level balcony above that." They were inside of a locker room, and it was neat. Sort of unexpected seeing as how the RPD had gone to shit last time she had been inside. Jill shivered at the thought of the Nemesis that had forced her inside the RPD seven years ago. Just after killing Brad…

"Same here, only bits and pieces. Guess we just have to hope for the best, huh?"

She nodded agreement. "Let's get moving then." Ada nodded back and started toward the door. She moved coolly, smoothly. One skin-tight clothed leg in front of the other, her arms loose at her sides. Ada turned to her, Jill jogged to catch up, and then she opened the door to reveal the main hall, and about a half dozen carriers wandering aimlessly throughout it.

"Take your shots carefully, conserve your ammo." And Ada was walking out, handgun blazing. She sent two zombies down; Jill wasn't even sure how fast she did it. It was fast enough to impress her though. Jill stepped out, and dispatched the closest zombies, three of them to her right. A red light that she had yet to use, the laser sighting, aided her in her clean shots. The other zombie was staggering toward them slowly, at least twenty meters away.

"Come on." Ada said, ignoring the carrier. It would take it a long time to get to them-crash! A door directly across the hall flew open, slamming against the wall as it did so. The sound echoed throughout the large room-and was cut off by some weird screeching sound as something stepped into the room. The creature…the…zombie? The zombie-creature was shaped like a human, but its skin was deep red, as if harshly sunburned, and each hand was tipped with claws. What the hell was it?

Then she remembered…Crimson Head.

A/N: Yeah, alright, another chapter. Pretty long I guess, I hope you guys liked it. Please review, and stay tuned for the next chapter. It should be up by at least Wednesday I hope.

PEACE