Chapter 4
Claire bolted upright. A sudden chill tingled her spine for just a fraction of a second before vanishing.
Alerted by her abrupt move, Steve shot up and grabbed her shoulder in a concerned gesture. " Claire, you ok? "
Claire nodded, unsure what to make of the strange phenomenon that had came over her just then. " Yeah. Strange, I felt a sudden chill in my back."
Steve gave her a look that suggested maybe she'd been out in the sun too long.
" It's over eighty degrees out." He said point-blankly, as if that very fact eliminated all possible chances Claire would have of feeling such a sensation.
He slicked back his unruly ruddy-brown hair with a slightly tanned hand and made a face. Still a little wet.
Must remember to watch what I say around Virus Boy…he could have flung me clear out to the Great Whites! It was a frightening thought.
Steve was absolutely terrified of sharks. And he didn't care what Chris or the others said; he was sure there were hundreds lurking around an uninhabited island like this one out in the Atlantic.
They were probably swimming around where he had been only recently, just waiting for some unfortunate person to wander too far into the surf….
He was interrupted from his thoughts of shark attack when Claire quietly stood up, stretching.
" Well, I guess we should see what everyone else is up to." She breathed, writing the brief cold sensation off as weird.
No sense in concerning yourself with things like that.
" Yeah, and while we're at it, maybe we could grab a bite to eat? I forgot the munchos on the jet."
Claire met this with a playful smile, rolling her eyes as she started off towards the camp. Men.
" Hey! I don't even merit an answer now! " Steve gushed, grabbing their things and hurrying after her.
Neither of them noticed the watchful eyes attached to a face hidden just behind the towering ferns in the wooded jungle.
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Chris, Alan, and Seth relaxed in comfy beach chairs only a few feet ahead of the ebb and flow of the tide. The water would rush up at them fiercely, stop inches away from their feet, then just as suddenly as it came it pulled back; leaving the sand wet and of darker coloration in the places it touched.
Three fishing poles were propped smugly against the crook of three sturdy forked tree limbs stuck purposefully in the sand: an expensive yellow oceanrod, a nondescript brown pole, and a Garfield pole. It was easy to tell who's was who's. All of the lines were cast a good distance out into the surf; taut and tight so that the faintest jerk would betray the fish who took the bait.
So far though, the two hours they had spent fishing had rewarded them with not a single fish, and the only briefest fleeting excitement had happened when Chris's line had wiggled ever so slightly. That had turned out to be a false alarm--he'd cast into a nest of seaweed and the hook had became entangled in the mess.
Alan was getting a little antsy. He wasn't used to staying so still for so long outside of sleeping.
Not to mention the overpowering smell of the seawater that was wreaking havoc on his nose. An extremely well-developed sense of smell was not always such a good thing in some circumstances. Alan could tell the difference between a bathtub full of water and a bathtub full of water with a teaspoon of salt in it. Unfortunately, he could also scent roadkill from a mile off, which was not a fun ability to have.
Naturally, he generally liked to avoid being exposed to a strong odor for any longer than was necessary.
" We will, at some point, actually catch a fish. Right? " He turned his head slightly in Chris's direction, directing the question at his leader.
" Hmm? Oh." Awakened from his daze, Chris gave a sleepy sigh and grabbed his can of soda which was waiting for him in the cup-holder portion of the beach-chair's armrest. " Have a little patience, Alan. What I do is called 'fishing'. If it were easy, it would be called 'catching', and they're be a lot more people doing it."
He studied the expression of his teammate.
Alan seemed bored and extra fidgety, but beyond that he offered no further complaint.
Chris smiled. I'm glad he's on our side.
Now that Alan was an official S.T.A.R.S. member--the Alpha Team's 'muscle' for want of a better word--everyone seemed to feel a little safer. Most of the people they knew with superhuman powers were homicidal killers bent on their destruction. It was a bit of a comfort knowing that Alan was around. Especially with Wesker and Alexia on the lose--both with personal vendettas against the S.T.A.R.S. and Chris in particular.
However, Chris was always a little worried whenever his new comrade went out with the rest of the team to capture the bad guy. His superhuman abilities coupled with the fact that Wesker had done such an excellent job of training him to fight and kill made Alan a deadly weapon. That on it's own wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't also have this annoying tendency to rush headlong into a dangerous situation without giving the matter much thought.
There was no hiding it: Alan was not a good strategist. Rather than thinking things through to decide how best to handle a situation, he tended to just rush in and smash people up. Not always the brightest move.
Having superpowers has made him too sure of himself. It was all too easy for Chris to imagine a hostage situation where Alan might accidentally spook the perpetrator into killing the victim. There was also the danger of him accidentally killing the suspect. Indeed, it was not for Alan's own safety that Chris was concerned, but for the safety of the people involved.
He recalled one such incident that had happened only weeks ago when the S.T.A.R.S. had been called to deal with a trio of drug dealers who were considered armed and dangerous. It had been a particularly touchy mission thanks to a bomb the band had threatened to detonate if police were to show up.
Chris and the rest of the Alpha Team-- a.k.a. Alan and Jill--had traveled the 4 miles of empty dirt road to reach the house in question in a single unmarked car. Things had started out smoothly enough at first; the druggies seemed oblivious to their arrival. Chris's plan had been to spilt up and surround the building slowly, judging the status and position of the suspects before deciding what to do next. After all, they still didn't know if there were any children or hostages on the premises and if that were the case a direct confrontation could endanger their lives.
It was not to be.
Always more a man of action, Alan had gotten excited and rushed in before it was time--straight into the living room were all three druggies were huddled together and waiting with guns.
Turned out they were not as oblivious as had previously been thought.
Any other officer would have been killed that night; shot to death by the scared drug dealers.
Thankfully, Alan was not any other officer. He was a carrier of the T-2 virus. That meant he was very fast. The druggies barely had time to aim their guns before he was on them, forcefully tearing the firearms out of their hands and flinging them across the room. One managed to pull off a shot before he lost his weapon, a shot that grazed Alan's thigh. A shot that slowed Alan down for oh, say, a billionth of a second.
The poor druggies never stood a chance.
When Chris and the rest of the team had arrived at the scene it was to see one guy slumped across the couch; clearly unconscious with a huge red mark on the side of his gruffy face. Another guy was on the floor crying. They later learned one of his ribs had been cracked and two broken. The third guy was cowering against a corner and begging for mercy; his right wrist and half the fingers on that hand broken.
Alan was just standing in the center of the room, looking mightily pleased with himself.
Chris remembered thinking he almost felt sorry for the drug dealers.
At about that time they heard a motor start up and a car speed off at 90 miles a minute. There had been a fourth druggie.
Once again, before Chris had had time to utter a single syllable, his subordinate had zipped off straight out the door.
Jill was busy cuffing the man in the corner, and since it was obvious that the guy on the floor would not be offering any resistance--he was in too much pain--nor would the third companion--he was in too much unconsciousness--Chris had spared a moment to cross the threshold and see how Alan would handle the chase.
A red car was racing down the stretch of dirt road at what was at least 40 mph and rising quickly. It was dark out, so Chris didn't see exactly what happened. All he knew was at one moment the car was speeding down the road and the next it was on it's side in a ditch. Alan later told him that he had ran up behind the car, grabbed it's rear bumper with both hands, and literally lifted the car off it's back wheels while at the same time digging his feet into the ground and coming to a grinding halt. Once the rear half of the vehicle was suspended in the air, it's wheels spinning vainly, he explained that he had drug it over to a ditch and tossed in on it's side.
Fortunately, the shaken druggie was not hurt badly beyond the usual cuts and scrapes associated with one's car being thrown into a ditch.
Thankfully, the whole bomb scare had been nothing more than a bluff.
Once they were in a more private setting, Chris had taken Alan aside and explained the concept of the word 'subtle' to him. He had also explained why it had been a bad idea to just barge into the house like that. Innocent people could have been involved. Innocent people could have been killed. There really could have been a bomb in the house. Also, it was against regulations for Alan to take matters into his own hands and run in without being ordered to do so.
" I am the Captain of this team," He had reminded his nephew, " I know you just want to help, but you still have to wait for my order before you act. It's for everyone's safety. Don't run into a potentially hazardous situation unless I give the OK."
After their little 'talk', Alan had apologized for his brash behavior and all was well again.
The very next day, as Chris remembered, he had called a conference meeting in the S.T.A.R.S. office and had arrived to find Alan occupying his desk in a very relaxed position and wearing sunglasses. " Hey look, I'm the Captain of S.T.A.R.S.! " He had declared lightly, and the whole room had burst into laughter because the plaque on the desk did indeed read 'Captain A. Wesker'. In fact, it had been the very same plaque his father had used when he had been Captain, and to this day Chris had no idea where he'd gotten it. Of course, possessing a sense of humor, he had responded with " Very funny, Alan."
On the whole, Chris thought Alan was pleasant enough to have around. He was usually upbeat and in a cheery mood. And you could count on him in a bind. Even if he did make the occasional mistake.
Namely breaking things…
In only the three months since he'd been there, the newest addition to the team had already broken two doorknobs and completely ruined the locking mechanism on an equal number of special-files cabinets and drawers. Not intentionally, of course, he simply hadn't realized they were locked when he pulled or otherwise opened them.
It could be nerve-racking, at times, living with someone that strong. Chris was especially concerned about his children, even though they hadn't complained once and Alan swore he was extra gentle with them.
Speaking of children…Chris's eyes fell to Seth, who took a sip of his Hawaiian punch before sliding off his chair and onto the ground.
The little Redfield was feeling quite bored. Why do the grownups think this is fun? All we do is sit here and talk about boring stuff. That is, when we do talk.
Having a lot of pent-up energy, what he most wanted to be doing right now was playing with his Uncle Alan, but no; Alan was fishing, and his daddy clearly didn't want any of that to change.
I bet Alan's daddy never made him fish like this. He began scooping sand onto his out-stretched legs, loving the warm yet rough feel of the granules against his skin.
He looked up and noticed his father staring at him. He was about to say something when Chris turned away and stared out into the ocean.
A minute slipped by. Two. Neither adult said a word.
Seth frowned. This would not do. At least when people were talking he had something to listen to. And since nobody looked ready to break into conversation any time soon, he decided to break the ice himself.
" Hey, I made it to a new boss in President Evil." He said cheerfully.
" Oh really? " Alan chimed. He was quite familiar with the game himself. In fact, he had had to help Seth with it quite a bit, especially with some of the harder puzzles that there was no way the five-year old could understand. " Which one? "
" Abe Lincoln."
Chris leaned in, listening to the conversation with a muted interest. Video games had never been his strong point. He was lucky to get past the first level of Spyro without getting done in at least once or twice.
" Abe's not that hard. Just keep at him with the shotgun until you wear him out and he mutates into his second form. Then hide behind the earthmover and let 'em have it with the 'ol assault rifle. Make sure you only hit his head though, otherwise you're wasting your shots. Three clips should do it. Save all your big ammo, you're going to need it for the final boss, and he's the hardest to kill. In fact, you'll need Webber's special magnum to even hurt him."
" Something happens to Webber? " Seth sounded upset.
" Don't get too attached to him…he's a traitor."
" Really? "
" Yes. He set the Liberty squad up and helped the mad politics kill Jamie and Cass. He wants to kill Sammy too. Webber is bad news. He secretly works for the White House. "
Seth shook his head. " Gees, I always thought Webber was kinda cool…'an he says really cool things. Does he die? "
" Welllll….." Alan trailed off uncomfortably, unsure how to phrase this, " That's open to debate…."
" I'm not sure I want him playing a violent game like that." Chris interrupted, " What's the rating on that thing anyway? " He looked to Alan expectantly.
" Teen." Alan replied calmly. He didn't see any reason why Seth shouldn't be allowed to play.
Chris was of a different opinion. " Eh…I don't know about that. President Evil reminds me of another game with a similar name that…"
" Lunchtime! " Jill called, interrupting the discussion about the super-cool game President Evil.
That was it all it took.
Seth shot up in a flash. " Lunch! Whoopeeee! " Both hungry and excited, he ran to the picnic table as fast as his legs could carry him.
Always ready for the occasion, Jill was standing near the grill and fire-pit, getting paper plates ready and waiting to meet him. A platter of hamburgers sat in the center of the large-yet-portable picnic table, surrounded on all sides by bags of chips, coleslaws, hotdogs, and other various camping goodies; including a fresh cut watermelon.
Once her son was situated at the end of the table, Jill sat a festive kiddie's plate in front of him with all the makings of a well-balanced meal. Grabbing a spoon, Seth went to work right away on his Jello.
Seconds later, and he was joined by his little sister Crystal. Patiently, she waited for her food, one of her tiny hands clasping tightly around an exceptionally pretty seashell Alexis had helped her find. Like Seth, she was also dressed for the weather in a pretty pink 'Girls Rule' tee with matching shorts and sandals. Her dark-brown-almost-black hair was done up into a cute little ponytail fastened with a red scrunchie. Blue-green eyes highlighted a babyishly cute face.
Jill smiled warmly. She loved both her kids very much and always did the best she could to raise them in a healthy and caring environment. So far they seemed to be really enjoying their little family outting at the beach. Thank god for Alan and Alexis, she thought, loading Crystal's plate with carefully-measured portions of food, the kids really love them and they help me and Chris out tremendously by watching them.
It was true. Both Redfield parents had noticed the way Alan and Alexis seemed to relish spending a lot of quality time with their kids. They played games with them, took them to the movies, made trips to the park, indulged in family-oriented outside activities such as dodgeball and tag, and to top it off, they even allowed the kids over to their house some nights to play video games.
Since Alexis's house was just across the street from theirs, all Jill and Chris had to do any time one or both of the kids came up missing was just head on over there and nine times out of ten they would find Seth and Alan playing a two-player video game while Crystal and Alexis looked on, sometimes waiting their turn and sometimes playing with Crystal's toys or reading.
Alexis loved to read stories to the children. And when the kids stayed the night, she would lay in there with them and sing to them until they fell sound asleep. Jill thought she had a beautiful singing voice.
All that was fine and dandy, except for one tiny detail: it made both Jill and Chris feel guilty whenever they couldn't spend that much time with their offspring. Being Captain of S.T.A.R.S., Chris was often very busy with work and Jill had a lot on her plate too between house-keeping and her job as the S.T.A.R.S. intelligence . Alan and Alexis always seemed to have loads of spare time on their hands; which, now that she thought about it, made sense.
Though Alexis was contemplating opening a coffee and/or bookshop someday using some of her leftover inheritance, she was not currently employed beyond offering to help the S.T.A.R.S. out from time to time.
As for Alan, he was on the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team, but he was not always needed in all the missions. Chris mostly just used him for firepower.
Lately it seemed to Jill like the Wesker and Ashford duo were taking hers and Chris's place as loving parents to their children. It was not a happy thought, and on a deeper level that even she herself would not admit it made her kind of resentful towards them. Though she did a good job of hiding it, her subconscious thoughts were somewhere along the lines of: Gees, if they like kids so much, why don't they just go have their own?
Of course, with Alan's virus that might not even be possible.
" So, how did your sandcastle go? " Jill asked her daughter.
" Gweat! It wast Pwetty! " Crystal replied, her words distorted partially due to her young age and partially due to the food she was stuffing into her mouth as she talked.
It was just as well. Being barely three years old Crystal didn't talk very good anyway.
Alexis approached the table, but stared at the food as if it were not even remotely desirable.
She looked troubled about something.
" Something wrong? " Jill asked, hoping that it wasn't her cooking. The way the other woman was staring at it made her wonder.
Alexis bit her lower lip nervously, the shadow of worry wearing heavily on her face. " There's…something's not right. A change in the wind. We should leave soon."
As she spoke, Chris, Claire, Alan, and Steve came up behind her, grabbing plates and heaping them with food.
" I reeled the lines in for awhile." Chris remarked, winking at his wife while grabbing some burgers, " Fish aren't biting very well today anyway." Then he noticed Alexis, and all thoughts he had of fishing momentarily left his mind. " What is it? "
Alexis shook her head. " I'm not sure, I just have a bad feeling for some reason." That in itself deeply unsettled her. As the years had progressed, Alexis had discovered she had sort of psychic gift; probably inherited from her parents--most likely Alexia. It wasn't anything real big--she couldn't read minds, nor did she have visions or anything like that, but in addition to being good at sensing emotions, she could also sometimes sense danger. Just the fact that she was having a bad feeling made her have a bad feeling.
She settled down next to Alan and he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. " Don't worry. It'll be alright."
He may have said more had his eyes not drifted to Steve at that moment, who was sitting straight across from him and just to the right of Claire. He was also spooning big hulking messy globs of coleslaw into his mouth at a very fast pace.
Alan made a disgusted face. " You need a shovel with that? "
Steve paused to grin, teeth coated in coleslaw. " Hey, you gonna finish that? " He asked, pointing to Alan's untouched burger.
" Finish? How can I finish something I haven't even started yet? " It was unbelievable. Steve was acting like he hadn't eaten in years!
" Great! " The lanky father-to-be started to reach across the table; perhaps just in play or perhaps because he really intended to snatch the food.
He never got that far.
Alan's hand came down upon his, trapping it against the table. " You really want a broken hand, don't you? "
" Aw, you know it would just heal."
Alan squeezed a bit, not hard enough to break his comrade's hand but hard enough to make him unquestionably uncomfortable. " Wanna test that theory? "
Steve winced. " Fine, fine. You win! Let go! "
" Alrighty then." Alan released his hold.
Steve withdrew his hand, examining it like he half expected it to be a different color. It wasn't, but it was a little sore. He rubbed it with the palm of his other hand.
" Gees, is it just me, or are you a little testy today Virus Boy? "
" I'm not testy, you're just annoying." Alan took a bite of his burger.
Chris could have laughed. He found the banter between Alan and Steve very funny. Those two just couldn't seem to leave each other alone! But it really wasn't in a malicious or cruel way. In fact, he was starting to suspect that Mr. Wesker and Mr. Burnside were in fact good friends, though neither would admit it. They certainly got on each other's nerves enough.
Alexis was starting to get a little more nervous. That feeling of dread she had knotted up in the pit of her stomach just would not go away, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
She gazed skyward, ignoring the yammerings of her peers in the background. Overhead the sky was swelling with thick, dark clouds blowing up from out of nowhere. The largest blotted the sun, casting the entire island into a gloomy shadow. A chill wind flared up and decimated the temperature. It was only 2pm, but it looked and felt as if it were much later.
All over the island, trees and plants began to sway in the strengthening winds.
This is not a good sign, Alexis's instinct told her, we have to leave, now! Frantic, she looked back at the table, at her friends. They were lost in multiple conversations, all except for Jill and Alan.
She saw the latter glance up an remove his shades, folding them neatly and slipping them into his pocket. At the moment his color-changing eyes were red encircling gold with the pupils slightly less slitted, they way they always were when he wanted to get a really good look at something.
Then he looked back down, and their eyes met.
He was troubled too. His expression was one of nagging worry.
" I sense it too." He said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, " Clouds don't blow up that fast. It was clear sky not more than ten minutes ago. And the animals are being unusually quite, like there's an approaching storm."
At the other end of the table, Seth shivered. " I'm cold."
" Yeah, what's with the sudden temperature drop? " Jill agreed, looking around.
It wasn't just them; in fact everyone was beginning to notice the weird weather. It had been close to eighty-five degrees only minutes before. Now it was most definitely in the sixties and dropping still.
A sharp gust of wind caught an empty plastic 'Safeway' bag from the group's supplies and blew it down the darkened beach at what appeared to be 50mph.
The whole sky was now dark with ominous clouds as far as the eye could see. A bolt of lightning spilt the heavens; a fantastic snake of white energy. Seconds later, it was followed by an audible 'KaBOOM!'
Not one of the S.T.A.R.S. liked the sound of that. They exchanged worried glances.
" A storm? This wasn't in the weather report at all! " Chris gasped, unable to believe the bad luck, " It was supposed to stay warm all night! It said so on the radio! "
" Yeah, well, apparently it," Steve bobbed his head in a gesture upwards indicating the storm, " doesn't listen to the radio."
" What are we gonna do? " Seth shuddered, scared. He didn't like storms. All the thunder, lightning, and big wind frightened him. It was easy to imagine giant monsters up there, fighting with each other and ready to fall to earth at any minute.
" We're just going to have to weather it out." Jill worded what everyone had been thinking, " It's too dangerous to fly in this kind of weather! Quick everyone, grab whatever you can and head for the jet! "
Chris nodded. " You heard what she said, let's go go go! " He was reasonably worried himself. Though he never really considered himself a science buff, Chris was smart enough to know that storms didn't just spawn out of a clear blue sky in less than fifteen minutes flat. He hadn't even seen any clouds on the horizon…where had the storm-clouds come from?
There was much hurrying to cover up the food and pack things up.
Without warning, an ear-splitting scream pierced the air; the inhuman cry of a beast unlike any ever heard before.
" What was th…" Claire never got the chance to finish her sentence.
A mighty whip of crackling blue energy leapt out of the sky and struck the bare sand not ten feet away.
In the blink of an eye it had happened.
In the blink of an eye everyone disappeared.
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That's it for now! Like my pal Sych77 I'm awfully fond of cliffhanger endings! XD I'm evil you see. =^-^=
Now for the Author responses….
Kisu-Ayla: Yes, a dragon. Sorry if you didn't care much for that, but I did say that this fic would have more than the usual amount of magic in it. =) I definitely have big plans for Wesker, just don't expect to see him for a few more chapters yet. I'm setting it up for him, but there's still a few more things I want to happen before he actually arrives. Hang in there. ^^;;
LaVixen: A new reader! Thanks for your review! And *blush* for the high praise. ^_^ I hate Writer's Block. May it never darken your keyboard.
Demon Eyes Kyo: Your question: Will there be a nemesis? My answer: You'll see. I think you may be pleasantly surprised.
Strange Pixie: You got the STARS this chappy! =D All your questions will have answers in due time. As for your repeated requests about the phoenix ( Yes, I love them too! ^_^ ) and Kiticore, you'll just have to wait and see. It's too early to say for sure yet what I'll decide to do where they're concerned. ^_~ You'll being seeing more of Spade when Wesker and her arrive on the island. That won't be for a few more chapters though, I have too much I want to do in between.
Zarbok: A story about a man who was half dragon you say?! ^o^ Neat! I always did have a soft spot for dragons! Don't worry, I have no intention of letting my readers down.
Res1kna4: Vacations are fun! And I thought it was about time someone put Alexia in her place, her attitude stunk.
CyootKitty: Ah, don't worry about it. =^.^= Too early to say what kind of ending this story will have, and Writer's Block sucks large quantities of arse. _
Sych77: You end up in document manager when you try to review? O_o That's…weird. Hope you get that straightened out. There is a real island with the name Majika? Or close to it? Let me know if you find out for sure, I thought it was a name existing purely in my imagination. The snow all melted. -_- It never stays long where I live.
Les Enfant: A big showdown between the Weskers and Ashfords? *gets in thinking pose* Hmmm…what an interesting possible scenario…(^_^)
Hello Captain: Mostly from Shakahnna. ^^;; But I have heard a lot of people saying nice things about you, your story in particular seems to be pretty popular. ^_^ Heheh, I warned all the new readers that they might not understand what was going on unless they read my other fics. No sweat though, there's always plenty of time for you to catch up later if you want. Until then you'll just have to put up with a bit of weirdness. Bear with me. *hands you a cookie* Here's your treat for noticing stuff! =^.^=
Katiana: Don't worry about it, I don't mind. ^^ Hope you liked this chapter just as well.
Sherry15: Thank you for the review! You will see more of Wesker a bit later on. I have big plans for him, but I have to set it up just right before he can come in and play a bigger role.
Moczo: Glad you are still with me! There will be more battles yet to come, so don't worry. =) And I just couldn't have a good story without Wesker, regardless of how Chris would feel on the matter--I'm very selfish you see. XD
Thanks for all the reviews everyone! (^_^) You make me so happy! =D
