Chapter 19

Dark gray clouds completely blanketed the sky overhead, stretching from horizon to horizon as far as the eye could see and casting the land below into a deep shadow. A gentle rain fell, running off the roofs of the buildings and collecting in the gutters. It was merely the beginning of what was sure to develop into a much worse storm, and gave the entire area a kind of foreboding, gloomy atmosphere.

Where am I? Alexis walked a narrow alley between two large buildings she didn't readily recognize, searching for some clue to her silent question. Wherever she was, the place appeared to be abandoned. Nobody had been there to greet her when her portal had appeared and spat her out a block or so over next to a big wooden building sporting a few unpainted steps leading up to a neglected veranda. The entire area had been enclosed with a high metal fence, giving Alexis the impression that it was probably a dog run.

Needless to say, it hadn't taken her long to find her way out of there. She still didn't know if there were any dogs in that pen. She hadn't stayed around to look.

Now she was faced with the more daunting task of finding someone alive to talk to in this ghost town.

If you could call it a town. Towns generally had stores, post offices, police departments, and....and this was a really major one...people. So far Alexis had seen nothing to indicate that this collection of uninviting buildings was anything more than a base of some sort.

A base. I hope not. Which means it probably is. Aren't I lucky today? Odds were ten to one that this wasn't going to turn out well.

Where was everyone at? The lack of life around these parts was very unnerving. Alexis felt like the only survivor in some great catastrophe.

" Hello? Anyone here? " Her only answer was the rumble of thunder not too far off in the distance. Even the animals were being unusually quiet. Well, given the fact that a big storm was brewing, that actually made some sense. Unlike...

Perfect. Guess I'm going this one solo. How very kind of my portal to 'decide' I should do this alone while other people get partners. Hmphf. And just for the record, how exactly does Angelique expect me to find a piece of the Hylen if I don't even know where I'm at, much less it?

Good question.

With a sad sigh, she continued into the next yard, paying very close attention to her surroundings. Much to her dismay, this yard was just as desolate as the last. What was going on here? The bad feeling she had had straight from the beginning was growing with each second.

One of her questions was about to be answered.

A shift of the breeze brought the all too familiar reek of rotting flesh. Of course, Alexis thought sarcastically, wrinkling her nose, I am Alexis, this is my life. At least now I know why nobody's up and about. There's been a viral spill. And...my god, it's so sad when you've been through enough of them to notice the signs immediately.

Well, this certainly was no good. A viral spill. All the millions of times and places she could have been sent to, and the magical portal had decided on a viral spill. Yep, Veronica's hex about it being a worse-case scenario for the individual involved was working perfectly. Stupid hex.

So what else was there around here?

Apparently not a whole lot.

Nothing to the left. Nothing to the right. More strange buildings dead ahead. Since they didn't look prehistoric--quite the opposite, in fact--she obviously hadn't gone all that far back in time.

Bugger. There went those fantasies of going back and meeting someone famous like Alexander the Great. The shape and design of the buildings and fences all suggested a much more recent time. She was, at most, twenty years back in the past. And that was pushing it.

Alright, so where would I go to find a magical piece of white wood carved with symbols?

She had no time to think about it, however, as just then gunfire exploded all around. 'Bam! Bambambambam!' Clods of dirt exploded near her feet, missing their target by mere inches.

Attack!

Quick on her feet, Alexis dodged to the left and ducked safely behind the back of a large gray building. There, heart hammering away at ninety miles a minute, the shaken blonde scrambled not only to catch her breath, but also to make sense of what had just happened. Who's shooting?! Man, two minutes here, and I already hate this place.

After another five seconds the gunfire ceased. Apparently the shooter had decided she wasn't going to come back out for another round.

It wasn't inaccurate. Alexis was curious as to who her attacker was, but not curious enough to risk a quick peek around the wall. No amount of curiosity was worth a faceful of lead.

The people around here obviously weren't friendly. She was going to have to watch her step.

" Someone alive down there? " A young man's confused voice called out.

" Barely! Do you always shoot first and ask questions later? " Alexis huffed. Something familiar about his voice. Something...." Steve?! "

It was Steve! Alexis was so excited she almost fell around the bend trying to get a good view. Just ahead of where she'd played that frightening little round of 'dodge the bullets' was a big wooden watchtower, and sliding down it's slick pole was the lithe form of Steve, Steve Burnside!

" Steve! You're alright! " Alexis couldn't help but to smile as her friend approached. This was wonderful! Now she had a partner to help her out of this mess, now she wouldn't have to search alone!

Steve approached slowly, gun dangling at his side, eyeing the young woman warily as if she were some stranger he didn't trust. He was a bit thinner than she remembered, and his face was paler and dirtier than it had been yesterday, but it was still the same guy. Ten feet away from her, he froze, a confused expression working across his face.

" Barely. How...how do you know my name? "

Uh-oh. Alexis's thoughts screeched to a grinding halt. " Steve, it's me. " She sputtered nervously. He would remember. He had to remember. " Don't you remember? " She had a very bad feeling he wouldn't.

Steve snorted, and all hopes harbored of this being the 2004 Steve vaporized in that instant. " How can I remember someone I've never met? "

She felt his eyes on her, and for a horrible moment worried he was going to raise the gun and shoot her just on principal. Ugh. When I get back to the future, Steve is so going to get it! An awkward lump welled in her throat, and she swallowed nervously. This was a fine mess. What to say?

" I'm sorry, I guess I mistook you for someone else."

Steve's expression hardened. " Yeah, well there's a lot of that going around." He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her outfit, " I thought you were one of those zombies."

Alexis was taken aback. " Me? A zombie?! " How could anyone make that mistake? She glanced down at what she was wearing. True, a bright red sun-shirt and a pair of beige shorts complimented by strap-sandals did make her look suspiciously out of place on a cold stormy day, but not enough to be mistaken for a carrier of the T-virus. " Do I look like a zombie? You could have killed me! "

Steve shook his head, wet clumps of dark red-brown hair sticking stubbornly to the side of his face. " Nuh-uh." He narrowed his eyes, and his voice shifted to a dangerous low growl. " But you do look like an Ashford. You wouldn't happen to be Alexia, would you? " His hand tightened around the gun.

" No! No I'm not Alexia! " Alexia's daughter countered quickly, " I'm...." Can't be an Ashford-sounding name... " Rashel. Rashel Goodwyn."

Steve's fingers relaxed, but his scowl didn't. " Well, good for you. You're not one of the people I hate." He turned around and headed off in the general direction of the watch-tower. " Good luck Rashel. You're going to need it."

" Wait! " Alexis might as well have saved her breath. Rather than waiting, Steve only sped up and disappeared swiftly around a corner making it painfully clear that he didn't want to be followed.

That did it. Future Steve was no longer allowed to make jokes about the Ashfords being rude. The guy could hold his own in the campaigns for Jerk-Of-The-Year. So much for not going it solo.

Then it hit her like a train: This place was Rockfort Island. During the outbreak Claire and Steve were always talking about. Yipes! I'm an Ashford. On Rockfort Island. During a time when it's a very, very bad idea to be an Ashford on Rockfort Island.

If she'd been near a bed, Alexis would have dived in and pulled the blankets up over her head.

Suddenly this whole going back in time thing wasn't so fun.

Suddenly life sucked beyond words.

-----

The dining room was empty. Empty, but full of life. A happy fire crackled in in the lavish hearth, bathing the black and white checkered floor in a warm yellow glow and fending off the coldness which threatened to chill the room. Directly in front of the hearth, not more than seven feet away from it in fact, was a long wooden table laden only with a dull, worn tablecloth and a few silver candleholders containing several solid white candles. Bits of fire danced merrily on the wicks, casting playful shadows across the table and far walls. Their lives were half spent, and it was almost as if they were conscious of this and trying to get the best they could out of the time they had left. A few elegant pictures adorned the walls, each placed carefully to achieve just the right feel. Some were done in oils, and some of the oils were cracked in places where the owner had neglected to varnish. They showed scenes of important battles, lush landscapes, and important nobles in some way or another connected to the residents' history. From under a thin coat of dust, a grandfather clock ticked steadily, reminding the world that time did not stand still.

Time may not have stood still, but the air in the room sure did. The place was as quiet as an abandoned tomb in a midnight crypt, saving the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock.

Outside the windows a storm raged violently, pouring bucket-loads of rain down from the heavens and startling the earth with sudden thunderous 'boom!'s. Quite frequently, a brilliant flash of lightening split the sky, turning blackest night into brightest day for the briefest of moments.

A typical stormy night.

Well, maybe not so typical after all.

To one end of the table, just before the main door leading out into the drawing room, the air suddenly began to shimmer, as if the whole setup were a mere illusion. A second later and a wild, swirling vortex of green exploded into existence, retching forth it's two passengers before disappearing just as quickly as it had came.

A startled Alan and Seth took in their new surroundings.

" Hey! What was..."

" Ka-BOOM! "

Seth jumped back out of reflex as a crack of thunder so loud it shook the windows roared overhead. The lightning bolt that had preceded it had apparently hit very close by. The teenager's eyes lit up in a wild excitement.

" Easy there, it's just thunder." A hint of a smile played at the edges of Alan' s lips as he turned to regard his comrade. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing him jump like that.

" Oh. I knew that." Seth gushed automatically, embarrassed. Hoping for a quick change of subject, he again glanced around the room. " So Alan, where and when do you think we are? "

Alan's slight smirk was quickly replaced with a frown. There was something wrong with this picture. Something very, very wrong. He inhaled sharply, his extraordinary sense of smell quick to detect the overwhelming odors of blood, gunpowder, decayed flesh, and...

" T-virus! "

" Oh man," Seth groaned, " For just once, why can't it be the Cute-virus? Or puppies? " Why couldn't they have gotten sent back to a sunny beach in the fifties or whatever? Why did everything always have to center around bio-weapons, viruses, blood, and guts? Plus the general peeing of pants and nearly getting killed every step of the way. For just once, can't my life be a little more like 'Baywatch'?

" Because Umbrella doesn't deal in puppies." Alan answered, shifting his fiery gaze to the hearth. There was an indentation above where something was missing from the mantel. Perhaps the biggest surprise of all was that that came as no surprise. " And when you're an Umbrella scientist, your top priority is to concoct the weirdest, most lethal virus you can and inject every animal slash plant slash person under the sun with it until you get a better bio-monster than Sam or Joe over in the next research department. It's like a sick, twisted version of Pokémon."

Seth shook his head, making a face. " T-virus? Are you sure? Because I always thought that limburger cheese smelled like T-virus and..."

" Trust me Seth, I know T-virus when I smell it." Alan wrinkled his nose in disgust, " Come to think of it, it does smell something like limburger cheese but..." he shook his head, " that's not the point. I have a very bad feeling I know where and when we are."

" Well, we're not alone, that's for sure." Seth pointed a finger at the remnants of a broken gray statue littering the black and white floor tiles.

Both men glanced up to see another level overhead--a giant walkway running the perimeter lined with flimsy wooden rails. The rail just above the statue fragments was missing. Figured.

" Someone around here's either very clumsy, or very infected." Seth bit his lower lip nervously. He had a sinking feeling he knew where they were at too.

With a slight sigh, Alan started towards the fireplace, re-sweeping the entire room with his enhanced vision along the way. He was following one scent in particular--blood.

Seth followed in the rear, paying no respect whatsoever to the term 'personal bubble'. It wasn't so much the thunder and lightning scaring him now as the eerie howls he heard between intervals. Wild cries of some demonic, untamed beasts.

Sounds almost like dogs...

The dark-haired teenager was so caught up in his visions of nightmarish hell-beasts that when Alan came to a sudden unexpected stop he plowed right into him.

" Hey! "

" Sorry." He followed his cousin's eyes down to a large pool of blood on the floor. It was still liquid and appeared frighteningly fresh. " Whose is it? " Seth swallowed. He'd never liked the sight of blood.

Then another thought occurred. Aw man, I hope Alan doesn't think I'm a wuss or something.

Attempting to sound more bold, he added, " I mean, just for the record."

Alan shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. " Like I know. It doesn't smell familiar. But it's owner has the T-virus." He straightened, turned to face the door leading into another room.

" What is it? " Seth wondered, mildly jealous.

Why couldn't he have a super-sniffer?

Well, ok, sure, there were probably some things better left un-smelt but...

" Gunpowder." Alan's unenthused frown said it all. " Come on." He opened the door and stepped into a dimly lit hall. The path to the right looked normal enough, but a scene of horror waited in the mini-lounge to the left.

Two dead men lay sprawled out on the floor in awkward, unnatural angles, each drenched in a sea of blood. One was plainly a zombie, dressed in a beige workpants and a torn, white labcoat that was spattered red in countless places with blood. His decayed, gray skin peeled off him in flakes, leaving a foul odor in the air. He appeared to have been shot multiple times.

Off to his right was a much fresher corpse with dark skin clad in a flak-jacket and combat gear. His severed head lay several feet away from his body, faced turned, thankfully, to look under one of the green lounge chairs.

Alan grimaced in disgust, but he wasn't really surprised to see bodies. After all his years of experience training with his father and raiding bases, he'd seen more than his fair share of casualties. Plenty of those casualties were results of the T and G viruses. A few zombie-kills were nothing new. It would take more than that to freak him out.

" Alan! What are you doing? I can't see! " Seth complained, trying to steal a glance to either side of his black-clad friend, " What's in there? "

" Trust me, you don't want to know." Alan answered coolly, dimming his eyes to their natural blue-green for the sake of not seeing every grotesque detail. He had a feeling his inquisitive young friend was going to see it anyway.

Seth did not disappoint. The second Alan moved a few more steps into the room, he took a good look.

" Oh...my...god! " For a second he just stood there, rooted firmly to the spot, mouth hung open slightly and fear-struck eyes as wide as saucers. " Okay Alan. You can get back in my way now. Hurry! " He brought a hand up over his nose and mouth and turned away, barely stifling the urge to hurl.

This wasn't just gross.

This was beyond gross.

He could have lived his entire life happily without ever seeing that. Curiosity killed the cat. Why do I always have to do the opposite of what everyone tells me? I must be stupid.

" Told you you didn't want to know." Alan replied humorlessly, taking care to avoid stepping in all of the blood, viscera, and other bodily fluids staining the rug. He bent over the headless corpse. This guy looked familiar somehow...he had to have identification on him somewhere.

Having successfully quelled his urge to add to the mess in the hall, Seth braced himself and joined Alan's side.

It helped a little to think of it all as just the set of some slasher movie with lots of fake blood and dummies. Concentrate Seth. Don't think about all the body parts squishing beneath the heels of your boots, just....be calm and....and how could Alan stand this?

With a careful hand, Alan flipped the body over.

The S.T.A.R.S. insignia was visible on the left breast-patch of the uniform.

" Fuck."

Seth jerked back in surprise. He hadn't really thought of Alan as the type to swear much. He was about to ask what was wrong--other than the obvious--when the T-2 carrier looked up and caught his eye.

" Stars." He shook his head sadly, eyes swiftly returning to the dead man, " We're back in the Spencer Mansion. During the night of the incident."

Seth flinched, suddenly very uncomfortable. " Ouch. That's not a good thing." He understated.

" And that's not the worst of it." Alan stood up and faced his younger relative.

At first Seth imagined he was merely saddened. Maybe a bit embarrassed as well. After all, it was Alan's dad who had lead the original S.T.A.R.S. members into the zombie-equivalent of a shooting gallery. No sane son wanted to be able to claim that.

But no, looking closer, Seth saw an emotion which by far eclipsed any sadness or shame Alan might be feeling; an emotion he never dreamed he'd see on anyone bearing the last name Wesker.

Fear.

Alan was frightened.

Or at the very least considerably worried about something.

Either way Seth took that as a very, very bad sign. T-2 carriers were generally not easy to spook.

" What? " Though he hadn't intended it to, the question came out barely above a whisper.

Alan's face fell. Blue-green eyes flitted about nervously, settling on the picture of the mansion, the wall, the rug, anywhere but Seth.

" I...I..." Alan almost choked on the words, " I think I lost my virus."

---

A haunting night wind howled over desolate streets , whistling through the broken windows of long since abandoned houses and lifting up the lighter debris for a free ride through a dark, gloomy city. The bright light of a full moon shone down on a disaster. Houses, buildings, shops, cars--everything out in the city was broken, beaten, and shattered. The entire street was cluttered with empty cars in various degrees of disrepair; almost all had dented fenders and broken windows. Laying in the midst of this giant junkyard were throngs upon throngs of dead bodies--people and animal alike--choking the air with the powerful stench of decay. Traffic lights swayed with the wind, but no light emitted from them. A lone bicycle perched against a now nonfunctional lamppost, heavily rusted from years of neglect. The buildings lining the streets stood dark and lifeless; the last silent spectators to some catastrophic disaster.

Under the pale moon, ruin stretched as far as the eye could see; the entire city was little more than a massive graveyard.

A graveyard in which the occupants refused to rest in peace.

The metropolis may have been dead, but it still bustled with activity. The melancholic moans of zombies filled the air. Their feet shuffled with sickeningly wet, squishy noises as they stalked the city they called home in search of live prey.

Three figures stood in the center of what had once been the main drag, shrouded in shadow. They had no idea where, much less when they were. Two of the figures, Claire and Jill were in a state of complete shock. It was Raccoon City all over again!

" Oh man. " Chris groaned, rubbing his temple, " Two guesses as to where we're at."

A few zombies rose up from behind the crashed cars ahead, moaning in delight at the sound of fresh meat so close by. It wasn't a pretty sight. They were so old most of their faces were rotted all the way through and what was left of their clothes hung in shredded tatters from their ashen gray flesh.

" You think we're in Raccoon City? " Jill shook her head, trying desperately to clear it of the grotesque images of the scene ahead. Images she would have been just as happy to go her whole life without ever seeing. For just once couldn't we go somewhere that didn't involve zombies, monsters, super-mutants or Umbrella?

" No," Claire spoke up, her wary eye on the first of the zombie horde closing the gap between itself and them, " It's too big to be Raccoon City. And none of the area looks familiar."

" I'll say." Jill agreed grimly, " And since when did Raccoon City have a Carl's Junior? " She pointed in the direction of the restaurant. It's trademark yellow smiling star could just barely be discerned in the soft moonlight.

Chris shook his head, his mouth pulled into a tight line. They were in the middle of some infected city somewhere with no weapons and no idea where a piece of the Hylen might be hidden. It was a pretty grim predicament. Especially since zombies weren't likely to be the only threat. Wherever there was a viral spill you could usually count on finding B.O.W.s....

" Does anyone here have a weapon? " Jill panicked, the full horror. Of the situation sinking in. Her near-death experience with Olivia drove home just how helpless the group was without them. Out of impulse, she fished around in her shorts pockets for anything she could use to defend herself, wincing at the discomfort in her arm.

" I have a combat knife." Chris announced with a frustrated sigh. He reached down and pulled the weapon from it's sheath, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

A combat knife. Right. Like that was going to do anything. The zombies would just laugh and use it to cut him up for supper. Had years of killing his way through Umbrella bases taught him nothing? All the weapons in the world he could carry for backup and somehow, someway, through some cruel twist of fate, he always ended up with the stupid combat knife.

Jill was none too thrilled with her husband's choice in weaponry either. " Right. Does anyone else have a weapon? Claire? " She shot a hopeful glance to the younger woman, who was already turning her pockets out.

" Nope. Nothing." Claire hadn't thought to bring any weapons along. After all, it was supposed to have been a fun-filled family outing, not a friggen 'raid the Umbrella base' mission. Who in their right mind brought grenade launchers to a picnic along the beach?

" Uhhhnnnn." The closest zombie called out in greeting, stumbling forward at a fast but awkward pace. His buddies in the back had to climb over cars to catch up, a task which was readily accepted. For the zombie, the entire world was broken down into two categories: food and non-food. The living, breathing humans nearby would make a tasty meal.

Unfortunately for the zombies, S.T.A.R.S. were of a different opinion.

" What are we waiting for? Let's get out of here! " Claire turned on her heel and sped off in the opposite direction. It was too dark to see exactly where she was going, and she had gotten no more than five feet before she almost tripped over something foul languishing in the street, but running off into the unknown was vastly more appealing than the idea of just standing there and becoming a buffet for hungry zombies.

" I'm with ya! " Jill agreed, speeding along after her dark-haired friend as quickly as she could feeling so sore and beaten.

" You ladies get a head start, I'll cover you! " Chris declared boldly, swiping the almighty knife through the air in a macho-gesture intended to make the women feel better.

" Watch yourself! " Jill called over her shoulder, weaving her way after Claire through the maze of wrecked vehicles to the shelter of the nearest building, " I am not losing you too! " The last was spoken vehemently. Jill was sick to the back teeth of seeing people she cared about die or get hurt. From now on, she vowed, she would be a better mother and wife.

Chris nodded in response and turned back to face the rushing horde. It was his intention to delay the zombies considerably to make sure the girls had enough time to get to cover without being seen. Then he'd meet up with them and talk strategy. However, his plan had a tiny flaw, as he was soon to discover.

Wow. Who knew zombies could move so fast? By the time he turned back around Leader Zombie had already caught right up with him!

" Uuuuuhhhn! " Leader Zombie announced before making the lunge! He was so quick.

Chris leapt back, but he hadn't seen the overturned garbage can blocking the path right behind him. Tripping over it, he landed on his butt in front of the rancid T-carrier.

Now, zombies don't really feel emotions, but Chris swore this one looked elated. It grinned, revealing rows of sickly rotted yellow teeth in it's maggot-ridden mouth. A single black eye gleaned in the left eye-socket, and most of the hair had already fallen off it's diseased, flaking scalp. Hard to tell whether it had been male or female.

The stench was unbearable. Chris gagged and was forced to hold his breath. Then that awful smile grew wider. It was all the warning the S.T.A.R.S. captain had before the lunge.

Clack!

The zombie's jaws snapped shut on air as Chris swatted it's head to one side.

Too close! A millimeter more and Leader Zombie would have gotten lucky. Determined to keep the score in his favor, Chris scooted backward on his rear like a madman. There was no time to do anything else--if he even looked like he was going to think about trying to stand that virus-carrier would be on him faster than Wesker.

Close! He was still too close!

Leader Zombie lunged again, and this time dirty nails ripped into the loose fabric of his shirt, lightly scratching his shoulders. He was trapped!

Damnohdamndamndamn! Desperate, Chris swung his knife-arm and swiped the zombie in the face, trailing a wake of gooey congealed black blood. It barely slowed the creature down. There was no question about it: if Chris didn't so something quick he was a goner.

Calling up on all his reserves of strength, and not caring about the consequences, he lurched backward with the force of small rocket while simultaneously lashing out with both feet, catching Leader Zombie full in the chest. His head hit hard against the garbage can, making a consider clatter as he struggled to regain his footing.

No use! More zombies closing in! Leader Zombie had bought them time.

A list of obscenities raced through Chris's mind. Knife at the ready, he backed away as quickly as he could without falling over, an act which was sure to be fatal in these conditions.

The zombies were approaching fast. No way he could take them all on with his knife. Frantic, he surveyed the scene. Too many cars to the left. Too many to the right. It would cost him precious time getting over those, and even then it was too dark to see what might be laying in wait on the other side. Blocking the path behind, of course, was that stupid garbage can....bingo.

There was no more time for decisions, just action! Performing a risky backward leap over the can, Chris landed on his feet and kicked it as hard as he possibly could at the approaching horde.

Worked like a charm. Their delicate sense of balance upset, the zombies went down like pins in a bowling alley.

" Strike! " Chris grinned, feeling quite pleased with himself. Satisfied that he was once again safe--at least for the moment--he was about to turn and bolt when a flash of motion several cars down the street behind the zombies caught his eye.

A black shadow leapt up into the crisp nighttime sky; a dark phantom temporarily silhouetted against the soft glow of the moon. A second later and the zombies at the very back of the group were sent flying off the sides of the street with the force of being shot out of a cannon. Whoa, what the hell is that?!

Good question.

It happened so fast Chris barely had time to register before the last of the standing zombies were cast aside into the walls of the surrounding buildings with such force they almost exploded on impact.

On the ground near the fallen garbage can, Leader Zombie and two of his closest buds were just starting to get up. They never made it that far. Black boots crushed their heads into a sickening gooey mush with single blows.

Chris's heart leapt into his throat. He knew this person!

" Wesker?! " Oh man, I am seriously dead! There was no way he was going to be able to outrun his ex-boss in this mess, and he had a snowball's chance in Hell of besting the other man in a fight, even with the aid of the trusty combat knife. He was pretty much screwed.

Wesker tilted his head to one side, obviously amused. " Close." He took a step closer, sending Chris scurrying backwards.

Waitaminute....that's not Wesker! But with short blonde hair, Wesker-esque features, and black shades firmly in place over his eyes, the man sure looked like him. He was clad form head to toe in black gear, a stylish black leather jacket unzipped to reveal a black T-shirt underneath. In addition to this he wore black biker gloves and black jeans. No wonder he'd been so hard to spot in the dark.

Chris narrowed his eyes and studied his face. " Alan? " He uttered in disbelief. This was seriously creepy. It looked like Alan, only...different somehow. And the voice was deeper, more threatening.

Alan's initial expression had been one of confident curiosity, but at the sound of his name his lips twisted into a wicked smirk. To Chris's surprise, the only answer he got was a cold, ruthless chuckle.

It sounded exactly like Wesker.

What the hell is going on here?! Chris's mind panicked, and he was right to worry. No sooner had he opened his mouth to put his thoughts into words than Alan attacked!

The next few seconds went by in a blur. All the confused S.T.A.R.S. member saw was a flash of motion before a sharp pain wracked his stomach and he became airborne--all the wind effectively knocked out of his body.

------

Claire and Jill were having a problem. A big problem. Since they'd had no idea of which places were safe and which weren't, they'd ended up running down the wrong street and startled a monstrous--thing--into chasing them.

The thing in question was a hideous mutation covered with exposed pink rippling muscles and oozing, sickly flesh. Parts of it's apelike body were adorned with green scales. Huge claws dangled from it's fingers like sickles. When the beast opened it's short, stubby snout, a long piercing tongue darted over fearsome fangs. By all rights, it looked like some hellish hybrid of a hunter and a licker.

And it had them cornered.

In their dash to escape the thing, the terrified duo had ran straight into a dead end alley. Of course, they hadn't realized that until it was too late. It was an easy mistake--the only source of light was the moon.

" Well Jill, it was nice knowing you." Claire trembled, gripped with fear. With a monster in front and brick walls to either side and behind, it seemed a fitting goodbye. What else was there to do? They had no weapons, and neither one of them had been at one hundred percent health to start with. There was nothing handy to throw, and since they couldn't climb walls like Spiderman that left them in a very bad place indeed.

This was it. Game over.

" Same to you Claire. You were a great sister-in-law." Jill pressed her back against the cold stone and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Let it be quick. God, please let it be quick.

" Thanks. Back at ya." Claire returned. Though neither had said it aloud, they were going to fight back when the creature attacked. If they had to go out the creature wasn't going to get off easy, oh no. He was going to have to work for his food.

Too close for comfort, the ravenous beast moved in, ready for the kill. This time it would taste blood, this time it would dine on fresh flesh, this time it would...

Something in the air!

The licker/hunter ducked instinctively as a third morsel flew over it's head.

" Chris?! " Claire and Jill were effectively surprised.

The Redfield brother slammed the brick wall of the building behind him back-first, rapping his skull against the bricks. But by then his momentum had died down considerably, and instead of killing him the impact merely dazed him.

" Chris? What happened?! " A concerned Claire dashed to her fallen brother's side and began shaking his shoulder. For a fleeting moment, the hunter/licker was forgotten.

" Chris? Chris! " He had to respond!

Chris made a pathetic attempt to push Claire away.

Spinning. Everything was spinning so fast. Slow down! Why wouldn't it slow down? He wanted off.

Air. Lungs burning....Chris gasped for breath. He was still trying to make sense of the muddled sounds and fuzzy images.

Claire shook her head, worry manifesting over her face. " It's no use. He's been knocked senseless! "

" Look out! " Jill's warning came a millisecond too late.

The hunter/licker flew through the air: claws extended, fangs gleaming, saliva spraying in anticipation of the kill.

It never would have been a fair match.

Fortunately, this night, in this foreign, desolate era, Claire, Chris, and Jill happened to have a guardian angel watching over them. The very second the monster leaped the terrified S.T.A.R.S. heard a fearful roar and saw an orange-and-black flash of teeth and claws lunge from behind and hit the hunter/licker dead-on.

" Aiieeeeeeyyyyy! " The hunter/licker cried out as it's attack was killed midair and it collapsed to the ground. Sharp claws pierced over-exposed flesh and dug in violently. Vice-like jaws sporting pocket-knife fangs clamped forcefully over what was presumably the virus-carrier's throat.

" Is that a...."

" Tiger! " Jill exclaimed in awe, cutting Claire off mid-sentence.

The tiger was huge. Pound for pound it was at least twice as heavy as the beast it was attacking. Jill figured it would have to be a Siberian tiger, as none of the other subspecies got that big.

The battle was short and violent. The hunter/licker let out a series of high-pitched shrieks and thrashed madly in the big cat's grasp. The tiger retaliated by flipping over onto it's back--front claws still locked firmly in place--and pulled the creature over it's fluffy white stomach. Jill couldn't see the logic to the move until the awesome predator, still holding tight with it's front claws and teeth, began wildly rending the beast's undersides with it's hind feet and claws. Each rapid-fire kick tore away flesh and tissue in a bloody spray.

In less than a minute it was all over. The horrid monster that had very-nearly been the end of the three time-travelers fell silent and went limp in the tiger's hold.

In perfect timing, Chris chose that exact moment to come out of his daze. " Whoa! A tiger! " He jerked back in surprise and nearly hit his head again against the wall. " How'd it...what did...what's going on here?! " Chris was one very scared, very confused S.T.A.R.S. captain. Everything was happening so fast his brain was on overload and felt ready to explode any minute.

" It's a tiger..." Jill started.

" I'm not blind! " Chris snapped, circumstances making him much harsher than he would have liked.

" Maybe we can sneak past it while it eats the..." Claire's words died in her throat when the magnificent striped cat released it's kill and flipped back over onto it's feet with the kind of fluid grace only a feline can muster. Now it was checking them over with feral amber eyes, probably which looked tastiest.

" Forget the monster, I'd much rather be killed by a tiger." Claire groaned.

Nobody laughed.

The three friends braced themselves for the inevitable attack. They didn't have a steadfast plan, but it was at the back of each's mind to fight back together when the cat pounced.

It didn't.

Instead of lunging for the kill, the tiger merely paced back and forth, as if it were anxious about something. It kept glancing back the way it had came.

" What's it doing? " As one, both Redfield siblings turned expectantly to Jill. Apparently, being able to properly identify the beast made her an expert on tiger behavior.

Jill shrugged, but she found herself relaxing just a hair. " I don't know. This isn't hunting behavior."

" Then what kind of behavior is it? " Claire pressed, at ill ease having such a deadly animal in such close proximity. It was acting okay now, but that could change in a heartbeat. Wild animals were always unpredictable. You could never really trust them.

Jill shook her head. She knew a thing or two about tigers--she'd had to do a report on them once or twice in school--but she didn't consider herself to be an expert on the matter.

And, right now, her arm was hurting like crazy. The bandage was still in place, but it was amateur work nonetheless and the area where Olivia had sunk her teeth into was burning with pain.

" I'm not sure. It's like he's waiting for something."

As if on cue, a woman's voice rang out, " Sultan? Sultan! "

A dark figure stepped into the mouth of the alleyway, and a sudden bright beam of light played across both tiger and people. The tiger....Sultan?... dashed excitedly over to the source of the voice.

" Don't worry. He doesn't hurt humans." The woman assured.

" You sure about that? " Chris called out, but already his nerves were relaxing at the prospect of a tame tiger. Ouch. The bump on his head sure wasn't relaxing. Neither was the sore spot on his stomach where Alan had gotten in a swift kick. Alan. What's gotten into him? He's acting more like Wesker! Clearly the man had gone off the deep end. Why did he attack me like that? I thought he was supposed to be on my side! It didn't make sense. Unless....the thoughts swirled in his mind like a funnel cloud taking form, unless Alan was in league with Wesker all along. But if that were true, why did he save us from him earlier? Wesker didn't seem to like that.

" It's alright," The woman coaxed, " You can come out now. Sultan's quite tame, I promise it. He's only been trained to attack and kill those creatures. You're in no danger."

" Um....alright." Jill replied, a hint of worry still present in her voice. She started towards the light, and the woman on the other end lowered the beam of the flashlight to the ground so as not to blind her company. Claire and Chris followed, and soon all three were standing alongside a short black-haired woman at the mouth of the alley. She patted Sultan on the head gently, and the big cat gave a chuff of comfort. The woman smiled at the totally astonished looks she was getting

" Go ahead," She urged, " You can pet him. He'd like that."

Claire was about to crack a joke about why he might like that, thought better of it. After all, the tiger had saved their lives, and it probably wasn't a brilliant idea to offend the woman controlling him, either.

" Um...okay." Here goes nothing. Chris reached out and patted the tiger lightly on the head, feeling Sultan's soft fur beneath his touch.

Sultan made a tiger-grunt and shut his eyes softly, clearly pleased.

" Wow." Chris marveled, scarcely able to believe this was the same creature who had, only moments ago, torn a mutant hunter/licker thing to shreds. " He is tame. He your tiger? "

The woman laughed. She was in a pretty high spirits considering the city she was standing in. " No. He belongs to a close friend of mine, Alex." She extended her hand, " I'm Celia."

Well, no point in being rude. Chris grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle shake. " I'm Chris." He gestured to the others, " And that's my wife Jill, and my sister Claire."

" How sweet! A little family." Celia mewled, prompting her company to suspect that maybe she wasn't quite playing with a full deck.

Assured that the tiger was in fact tame, Jill went over and stroked his fur. " Thank you for saving us, Sultan." She gave the friendly tiger a quick kiss on the forehead.

" Aren't you worried he has a virus? " Chris brought up, " I mean, he bit into that creature there..."

Celia shook her head. " No. Sultan can't get viruses. He's immune. Good thing, too."

" Immune?! " Jill gasped. Well, wasn't that an interesting concept?

Celia nodded. " That's what I said."

" How? "

" The vaccination, of course." She narrowed her eyes and fixed Jill's amazed gaze with concern. " You...have heard of the vaccination, haven't you? " For the first time something was worrying her.

Now all three members of the gang were very interested.

" Celia? " Chris was unsure how to ask this without sounding like a complete mental-case, " This uh, may sound a little strange, but what year is it? Where are we? And what happened to this city? "

Now all traces of Celia's warm vanished. She gave Chris an odd look, like she couldn't figure out what he was doing out of his hospital bed. " It's 2010." She played the beam of her flashlight over the main street. " This city is a very, very dangerous place when you don't have a gun. Follow me and I'll take you to the hospital where the other survivors are. Once you are safe there we'll worry about answering your questions. Our leader will be delighted to see you."

Celia started down the street, trusting the others to follow. Sultan padded by her side, alert and prepared to attack if the need arose.

" 2010?! " Chris gasped, wording what everyone was thinking.

Claire shook her head in disbelief, the ghost of a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. " Well how about that? Instead of the past, Angelique sent us to the future! "