2. Come Into My Web.
He woke.
Hunk had trained himself for years to sleep lightly for emergency scramble missions. When he slept, he rarely dreamed. The way he slept was strangely similar to a Zen fashion, it was like being in a pitch-black room with nobody but himself to depend on. On those rare occasions when he dreamed, it was usually of a little boy lacking the usual childlike innocence, looking up at his stone-faced father, immaculately dressed in a suit. The father never tilted his head to look down at the boy. He merely directed his eyes downwards, regarding his child.
"Do you want my help?" The father would always say.
"No." The boy would always say.
"Good." The father would say.
And Hunk would wake up.
He checked his inventory: His gas mask filter had no breaks. His rifle, after being dry-fired, proved to be in excellent working condition. His pouch held two machine-gun clips, three variant grenades, and one tactical knife reserved for close quarters combat.
Hunk stood, checking his watch. The Umbrella chopper evac was due on the helipad on the police station in thirty minutes. That was more time than Hunk needed to find the G-virus and get out of there- he was confident in his abilities to be sure enough of that. Quickly making his way down the sewer corridors, double-time, he ignored the zombies that started to shuffle out of the water. When one of the zombies rose out of the water just a few feet in front of him, it sniffed his scent and turned instantly, groaning for him. Hunk stomped it back into the water. He felt a satisfying crunch beneath the sole of his leather boots before moving on. The wails of the dead echoed behind him and he shook off the odd, uncomfortable feeling that they may have been mourning their recent dead.
Reaching the stairs, he darted into the entrance, observing carefully that the sewer light could not reach these walls. The walls were grimy, dark, and damp, resembling naturally-formed rocks rather than cemented sewer shaping. Taking a closer look, the agent realized that these 'rocks' were stacked forms of countless human skulls, whittled to the bone and flattened to the wall, side-by-side. The skulls, bones, and decaying flesh encompassed the entire hallway entrance, glued to the walls by some sort of adhesive… or to be more precise, webbed to the walls.
He felt that it was appropriate, somehow, for such a creature to fashion a place like this.
Ah. Here it was now. A gentle thudding sound echoed. Hunk waded through the water as the thing rounded the corner to peer at him. It was a tarantula, containing all the correct anatomy of one, if one could be expanded to such massive proportions. It was as big as a medium-sized boar and just as thick, no doubt plump from its endless supply of meals. And speaking of meals…
The pinchers in its maw quivered in anticipation as each of its eight eyes locked on him. Hunk knew if he was quick enough in the water, he could just simply pass it. It was a slow, mindless thing like the zombies and he had nothing to worry from it.
It suddenly leapt bodily to the other wall, latching on and silently regarding him with several gleaming black pupils. An audible, almost mechanical, clacking sound could be heard as it rapidly opened and closed its pinchers in the fashion of a playful dog, one about to tear apart a newborn kitten.
Huh. This was new.
The agent observed that it had just scrambled faster than it should've been able to. It had improved, somehow. Launching itself straight towards him, a glistening string trailing behind its fantastically bizarre bottom, Hunk thrust it away with the butt of his rifle. The giant spider skittered on the walls and Hunk could see for himself that it wasn't just more mobile than the usual giant spider: it was leaner, sleeker, an evolved variant. The hairs encompassing its body and legs were matted down in curious swathes, instead of sticking out in thick grey tufts like the previous others he had encountered. Hunk recalled the weight that had pressed against him before he had batted it away. Seemed it was heavier too.
He turned and kept moving towards the exit, watching calmly as it sank into the water. The rippling water suddenly parted, dipping towards him.
The spider could swim.
The Umbrella operative started to backpedal, figuring out that this was a different breed of infected spider; a faster descendant from the lumbering giants he ran into on past missions. Agent Hunk slung the rifle around his waist and started to slog out of the water, because as he got sure footing, he would be able to handle himself. Lifting himself out of the water, he turned and waited for it to emerge. It did emerge, faster than he expected, and in a flourish. Launching itself to him once again, it crashed into him, the large spindly legs grappling his torso. Hunk tried to push it back, but he felt it squeezing down on him, choking him, trying to turn him into its vulnerable bitch fly, and in its eagerness, it forgot one thing. Flies didn't have knives.
With the same merciless precision he used to dispatch the monster, he slowly pressed his knife into its abdomen, down to the hilt, slicing downwards easily. The death-squeeze let up slightly, giving Hunk a chance to heave it away. It landed on the floor and started to upright itself, rearing on its bleeding haunches to leap and punish its troublesome prey. Instead, it sank to the floor as Hunk plugged it once between its pinchers with his rifle.
Hunk didn't bother to look back at his deceased quarry when climbing up the ladder into the basement garage of a section of the police station, or more importantly, the K-9 Unit holding pound. He'd have to make it past the parking lot and up the police department for the chopper evac. The parking lot was easy enough- the dogs were nothing but target practice- but the lickers prowling the police station courtyards proved more formidable than the dogs. Unfortunately, they were still mere bullet fodder.
Finishing off the last licker, Hunk checked his position, mentally recalling the evac location. He had to find the G-Virus sample and quickly. It was now down to ten minutes. He started forward yet another hallway when he heard the quick footsteps of a running human, straight ahead to his position. His machine gun at the ready, he stood, waiting for the person to come running to view. Ragged breathing could be heard even from this distance. And when she stumbled into his view, Agent Hunk could hardly believe his luck.
The little blonde girl, clad in the skirt and dress of a private middle-school uniform, didn't see him at first. He was hidden in the shadows. When she came near and saw the red-tinted goggles of his gas mask, she skidded in her tracks. They stood, observing each other for a moment. Her eyes were filled with the usual terror. She turned to run and Hunk slipped the machine gun back around his waist, sprinting towards the frantic child. He grabbed her easily enough, yanking her backwards and ignoring her cries of protest as he spun her around. Pinning her to the wall, he then stopped to listen. The girl jumped as a shrieking monstrous roar was heard nearby.
The G-Virus carrier.
The G-Virus sample.
"SSSSHHHEEE-RRRRAAA-HHEEEEEE!"
The girl squirmed in his grip. "Please." She said, blubbering like a newborn puppy, "P-please, let me go, you have to let me go."
Hunk tilted his head, a questioning gesture.
"The monster's looking for me," she said, "But you'll die if it comes here! Please!"
Hunk said, "Sherry Birkin, I presume."
The girl's large eyes widened considerably larger at the toneless, cold quality of his voice. Her struggles to scream went unnoticed behind one gloved hand as he dragged her back into the darkness.
Notes: Wow, am I a little drunk? I'm happy to say that this story isn't that hard to write! They say that all writers, even the aspiring ones and the shitty ones and the really good ones, drink the booze heavily.
(Buuuuuurrrrrrrrp)
I think they may be right. And I think it's not healthy to down 5 glasses of Everclear at one point. Whee. Yes, sir, I'd like some more of that sweet, sweet clear.
Anyway, this chapter's good! Not only do you get to read about our favorite gas mask abuser and his lovable exploits in his virtual classroom: "How To Kick Ass And Look Awesome Doing It", but you also get a little peek of his history, something secret and taboo, so secret, Hunk himself refuses to even acknowledge it. Ooh!
I'll have the third chapter up and ready soon, and don't worry, folks, now that I've found the magic of liquor and its amazing secret tendencies of turning me into a mighty drunken power writer, this story will not die off alone into unfinished story heaven!
Till next chapter.
-Jeremy (Ronald)