-CHAPTER 9-
The door appeared to open smoothly, the scientist's heart rate slowing back to normal. He suspected the room was untouched by the unholy creatures running amuck. Only a handful of personnel had access to such an important room, after all. Hugo made his way into the dark cultivation chamber, the air inside quite frigid. He shivered out of fear, excitement, and just from the sheer coldness in the room. In a matter of minutes, all of the chamber's treasures would be his. To think, he got his hands dirty enough to get this far, and Percival Caswell hadn't even given a hint that he knew about his true objectives after blowing away an infected Mark.
Stupid fat-ass jerk. Can't even tell one of your own kind from the carriers. Hope you burn in hell!
He flipped the light switch on, the whole room illuminating a strange bluish, purplish hue. Dozens of visible tanks and test tubes were arranged neatly around the room, like some biological gallery. The specimen within seemed like they were eying him, their sleep probably not even semi-disturbed. However, none of them would even compare to the wondrous items he cared to carry away. And when this whole pathetically easy ordeal was over, he'd be living in the tropics, basically a millionaire. Normally, he would have gut feelings for that kind of . . . devious work. But for once in his life, he had the utmost confidence that he'd make it and with time to spare.
Let's see, procure all samples of T-virus S, the Parasite X, and at least one of every other prototype. The 'copter should be here soon, said I'd hear the humming through this intercom . . .
Hugo used the computer to access the intercom, also unlocking various lab doors that would be necessary for his escape. He then worked the controls, the intercom set to the helipad in Facility B; no helicopter sounds, not even a single beep. Hugo figured he was a bit too early. After all, he'd been anxious to get this over with for so long, hiding everything from his "fellow" virologists. The briefcase he was handling contained everything he wanted, making him feel even closer to a life of no more worries. He could taste the sea breeze and pina colladas.
The door behind him sounded, startling him from his reverie. He fumbled out the magnum, worrying that maybe one of the MA-121's he released managed to get this far. However, he let out a sigh of utter relief upon seeing who it really was.
"Ah, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" he said in a shocked tone. The acquaintance said nothing. "Give me a hand with this, will ya? I thought you were going ahead to take care of other business. Why are you here?" Again, no response. "Uh, are you alright?"
Hugo's eyes went wide when he saw the silver gun rising and pointing straight at his forehead. The look on his acquaintance's eyes told him he was going to die. And in one last thought of complete regret, damning himself for being so reckless, he accepted the betrayal, his mind screaming for redemption. The gun went off, and down crumpled Hugo's body, as dead as the others in all four facilities. Only Hugo wouldn't become a zombie. At least not that.
K I N G
After the elevator came to a final halt, King braced himself for the coming horrors, expecting the worst. For some inexplicable reason, the fact that Joker and Alanis were up there alone and he was down here made him feel slightly queasy. He thought about the facility he and Rebecca escaped, wondering in dismay if he would have to go through the same. However, to his surprise, the hall was quiet and dim. Most importantly, empty. He stepped out, taking in the area as quick as he could: unfinished metal plating, wires scattered about, more doors with colorful motifs. It was a lab, alright. An Umbrella lab. He tried to keep his priorities in check as he went along. After all, survival was the least of his worries if he couldn't get his objectives cleared. According to his client, worse things would be in stored for the world if they didn't get the right information at the right time. Obviously, they had everything planned out. They just needed the go-ahead.
He peered left and right, the hall branching out both ways. To his right, a sign was posted on the wall reading "exit". He didn't know where the exit would lead, nor did he care. He walked cautiously through the metallic corridor to the left, hearing the low-pitched rumble of thunder probably sounding through the exit. The only unlocked door led into some type of resting room for the scientists, the coffee maker sitting atop of a counter nearby still slightly steaming-
-and in one of the corners stood a carrier, his back to a half-eaten corpse. The zombie began moving when he paused to take aim, this zombie already half-eaten himself. The majority of its face was bitten off, the flesh revealed all the way to the neck, exposing sinewy red strands of rotting muscle. As it moved, the chunks of flesh seemed to almost slide off of the bone, its pitiful cries making the job of dispatching all the more gruesome.
Despite himself, King let out a smile at him killing the thing with one head shot. At least these guys wouldn't be much of a hassle. And what was more, he felt very little sympathy for the once-human creatures. They were Umbrella scum who knew exactly what was going on. King continued examining the room for anything useful, stepping over the faceless zombie. There was nothing more to really see; just a couple of tables with half eaten food and still-warm coffee, counters full of various documents, all hand-written, and a six foot aquarium with seemingly nothing inside.
He was about to check out the documents when he heard the door open from his position, turning around immediately with his gun held out. If it was another scientist, he would have some trouble on his hands. But when he saw the worried, youthful look that stared him right in the eye, he felt his limbs go weak. The gun in his hands slowly fell to his side as he began to feel a lost sentiment as Rebecca came into view. His mouth opened, but nothing seemed to come out.
"Hello, Billy," she spoke first in a low tone, her same delicate face wearing a frown.
". . . Rebecca," he managed to say, feeling an odd sense of disorientation and nostalgia. She was right in front of him, in this lab, in a place filled with unspeakable dangers and horrors. What could she possible be doing in a place like this, he thought.
Rebecca walked over to him, speeding up as she got closer and just fell into his arms, no longer needing words to express her relief and joy at seeing him in one piece. Billy knew it, too.
R E B E C C A
Rebecca felt the urge to cry, but somehow pushed it back the same way she pushed herself to unwrap her arms from him. Billy was alive. That was all that mattered at the moment. But by the same token, they were both in a predicament where they needed to stay alert; already there were two bodies on the floor, presumably infected. She looked up at Billy with warm eyes, a smile forming on her emotional face.
"Billy, I was sure that you were dead," she said, a sad tone in her voice.
"Did you have that little faith in me?" he asked, smiling a bit. Rebecca smiled back even brighter in turn. "I had to leave the country for six years, but being able to see you again is definitely a dream come true." She looked amiably at his barely unchanged face.
"Oh, before I forget," she said in a hurried tone. She dug through her jean pockets and came up with a glittering item resembling a chain. Rebecca leaned forward, going on the tip of her toes to reach his neck and leaned back again, putting a hand on her chin as she viewed the results.
"Looks just as good on you as it did before," she said with amusement.
Billy saw the name on the dogtag, reading Billy Cohen. He looked back at her in a state of wonderment.
"You've seriously hung on to this for six years?"
"I've always kept it for good luck," she replied, "and it hasn't failed me since." There was a brief silence, broken only by the drowned out sound of thunder.
"Rebecca, a lot has happened since we've last seen each other. But one thing never changed. I've always wanted the chance to tell you that I've been doing my part to put an end to something like this and what happened at Raccoon."
"Likewise."
Rebecca was staring at the ground, feeling sort of awkward. She walked over to the fish tank, glancing inside at the plentiful amount of vegetation inside.
"Billy," she started, "I know you're wondering the same, but what brought you over here? Are you . . . working for anybody?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" she said, stunned by his reply.
"What made you ask me that?" he questioned back.
"The other surviving STARS members get information frequently, and there's word of another party being involved in all this."
"And you think I'm a part of it?" Billy walked over next to her, beside the fish tank also.
"Well, yeah, I do."
"And if I was, what would think of me? What would you do?"
"I was just worried!" she said, raising her voice a bit, then lowering it again. "I know this sounds stupid, but I've thought a hell of a lot about things recently. Sometimes, I felt like just escaping, abandoning my past to start a new life. But, I have a duty to fulfill, one that even now seems more impossible. I want us to fight together, and if this group you're working for has the same agenda as mine, I want to be a part of it."
Billy gave her a look of utter amazement.
"You do?"
"Yes. I've never felt confident about my work, alone. I want to be a part of a team I can trust."
"A team you can trust. What do you mean?"
"I don't know if you're aware, but the U.S. has full authority of this island and everything that's going on around here."
"What! Are you sure about that?"
"Positive." The look on Rebecca's face became grim. "I can't even come to trust them anymore. What's more, someone is controlling them using a parasitic specimen they call Parasite P."
". . . Wesker." Rebecca looked up at him in confusion.
"Wesker? How can that be?"
"It's a long story," he said shifting his stance as he stretched. "Rebecca, we can't die here. We have to get the hell out, this time together." Rebecca nodded, but not after pointing to something in the tank.
"What's that . . ."
They both leaned in to see a blue keycard on the gravel of the aquarium, the plants swaying back and forth, half-covering it.
"Well I'll be, it's another one of those things," Billy said in a less excited tone. He put his right hand mid-way into the water when the it began to fluctuate almost instantaneously. He managed to take it out just on time, a school of unnaturally altered piranhas splashing up with jaws snapping wildly.
"Where the hell did they come from!" Billy cried. Rebecca checked his hand immediately, alleviated to know they didn't get him.
"They look like South American piranhas, probably caribes," Rebecca added. "I don't know much about them, but they're normally not that big. And I don't think they hide in wait of prey."
"So, Umbrella even has B.O.W. pets," Billy said, shaking his head.
"Wait." Rebecca hurried over to the counter where there were various snacks and drinks for the scientists in the lounge. Among them were tongs, which she grabbed eagerly as she headed back over to Billy.
"Tongs. Are you sure about this, Rebecca?"
"Hold on."
She dipped the metal tongs half-way into the water, exciting the voracious fish into a frenzy. She removed it, watching as the creatures withdrew into their dwellings amongst the plants. She tried again, this time going in fast and snatching the card up as the fish began their attack again, only they grabbed at nothing.
Rebecca smiled in assuagement, grabbing the soaked plastic keycard and staring at it.
"Quite the daredevil," Billy said, "not the little miss pris from before, huh?"
"Nope. Just like you're not as much of a meat-head as you were before," she teased back. "Besides, I had my fill of crane game experience." They both smiled again at each other, some of the tension created from the lab wearing at each others' presence.
Billy was about to say something until Rebecca saw it, the carrier right behind Billy, its mouth wide open. "Billy!" she screamed, her insides feeling weak at the sight. It had already grabbed hold of him by the time he realized he was in danger. At the same time, Rebecca pulled out her handgun and took aim. After Billy shook the thing off, she fired two shots, the hits landing on its rancid, slimy face. It crashed to the ground with a weak sigh.
"Billy!" she shouted, about to ask if he was bitten. And she gasped when she noticed the bite on his shoulder, the deep teeth-set marks causing him to bleed just enough for alarm. "Billy," she repeated, knowing that it wasn't just the bite that worried her. He must've been infected. She began to patch it up with some cloth napkins from a nearby table.
"R-Rebecca . . ."
"I'm right here, it doesn't look too bad, really." Her attempt at trying to push aside the fact didn't work on him.
"Rebecca, the virus."
"I know, Billy . . ." Rebecca already felt the tears welling up, not knowing what the hell to do. If he was infected, there was probably little chance of him making it. It was too ironic that she created the damn cure but didn't have any on her to help him.
No! I won't think like that. There's gotta be a way . . .
"There's gotta be a cure somewhere around here."
"How can you be so sure?" Billy said almost in a whisper.
"Billy, I created the cure."
"You did, huh? It doesn't surprise me." He smiled, not letting the fact that he most likely contracted the virus get to him.
"Be strong, Billy. I'm going to search around for the T-cure."
"But, Rebecca . . ."
"Stay here. I won't be . . ."
"Rebecca!" he shouted. "Just go." She couldn't believe what he was saying, but then, she froze at what else he had to say. "This is not the same T-virus you studied. It's a variation, one that multiplies quicker. I'll just get you killed!"
"No . . . that can't be right . . . Billy, how would you know if that's true? There's no proof!"
Billy took out several folded papers from his side-pack, handing them over to her as he still remained seated on the floor, looking down. She skimmed through the article regarding the T-virus S, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I won't lose you here," she said to him, her watery eyes stuck on him. "I won't!"
"Rebecca," Billy said, his face all sweaty, "at least give me the luxury of knowing you'll live." From there, Billy fell unconscious, startling Rebecca as she fell on her knees to help him. Was the virus was already kicking in? Rebecca shook off the thought, imagining that it was just the shock from the wound.
She got up, her heart racing as she gave him a solemn mental promise. I'll find you the cure, I promise you that. With those words, she took the keycard and went on to search endlessly for a means to save him. There was no way in hell she was going to let him die after all the years they haven't seen each other. She closed the door behind her after one last glimpse of him, hoping she could keep her promise.