The fire, like most fires, began small. From a tiny spark on the spilled stack of blank newsprint, the glowing flint burst into a ball of fire spreading out across the room in every direction. The smell (had anyone been present to notice it) was actually quite pleasant at first, in a thinly sweet sort of way. It was only when the thin smoke grew thick, darkening into blackness, that any casual observer would soon begin to struggle for breath, even to choke on the acrid fumes.
Sadly, no observer was present. The generator chugged away, powering the small news office with valuable electricity, masking the crackling sound of paper snapping and growing fire.
Yoko sat in a small side office only two floors up, tapping furiously at a keyboard as George watched. The room was dark, the only light the soft glow of the monitor on the young girl's face. Her face was a slideshow of emotions; from initial joy and curiosity to frustration, from despair to anger.
"What is it," he asked, hearing her breath out a disappointed sigh. It was one of several in the past few minutes.
"This system server is a joke," she replied, rubbing her eyes. "I haven't used one this old since I was in elementary school," she added grumpily. It was odd, but this was the most expression George had seen in the young girl since the disaster began. From above, he could still hear the arguing voices of Cindy and Alyssa. Apparently now was the time for expressing such emotions. He wondered if it was a female thing; he dimly recalled reading a study about women in close proximity for extended periods and the stress it created. He remembered his failed marriage and smiled wryly, wishing Jim were near to share his thoughts and insight on the subject.
"Shit," she swore, slamming down on the keyboard. "This is hopeless!"
"Let me take a crack at it," George offered. Yoko's eye arched upwards in a curious way, and he could almost read her thoughts. If I can't do it, what hope do you have, old man? Computers have changed over the last couple decades. He had to admit, part of him wondered the same thing. "Hopelessly out of date operating systems are my specialty," he said, sitting down.
Yoko looked on, impressed by his careful familiarity with the system. "I thought you were a doctor," she said. "You're a computer whiz to boot?"
"I like to tell myself that, but it's just that a lot of the hospitals I've worked at used incredibly old computer systems for record keeping and such," he replied.
"Even now? I thought that the hospital was completely modernized," she said absently, watching him quickly navigate the batch files.
"It is…was, thanks to a generous contribution from Umbrella," he said, slowing down on the keyboard, his thoughts wandering. "All the good they've done for the city…how could they have done this to us," he asked, watching Yoko's face in her reflection on the monitor. Her tired face hardened for a brief moment; he wondered if it was her frustration with the computer or a memory of her days with Umbrella.
"It's always been easier and cheaper to kill than save, I guess," she finally answered. The menu page dropped, and the server logon screen popped up. "We need a login," she said, turning to George. He didn't move.
"I'm not sure it's safe up there for me," he wondered aloud. "Mutant zombies, monsters…those I can handle. Cindy and Alyssa…I'm not so sure," he added, crossing his arms.
"Yeah, you can't shoot them…can you?" she suggested. He looked at her, surprised, before he laughed, realizing she did have a sense of humor after all. She joined in the laughter, drowning out the still bickering of the women upstairs, before the ear-splitting wail of the fire alarm interrupted them. Their nervous eyes met, and they bolted from the room, heading to meet the others upstairs.
"I don't know who you are, thinking you know me, but…" Cindy began, before Alyssa interrupted her with a raised finger.
"Do you smell something," she asked, looking around.
"What, is this your way of telling me that I'm full of crap? Or that I smell now? Well, listen here, you! Not all of us have been able to sit in an air conditioned office while others have been running all over the city, fighting off monsters and getting covered in dirt and blood, trying to help people!" Cindy yelled, her voice building to a head. She was nearly screaming, and for the life of her, couldn't remember the last time she had done so.
"Nice speech, blondie, but I'm smelling smoke," Alyssa said, rising from her chair. She quickly grabbed her handgun, checking the chamber and tucking it into her pants. She turned to move, but seemed to remember something. She opened her middle drawer, and from the back of it, pulled out a dusty black device that looked like a large remote control.
"What's that," Cindy asked, a bit calmer now. A sudden flash of bright blue electricity shot between the tips at the end of the device, and Alyssa grinned, tucking the stun gun into her pocket.
"It's what we journalists refer to as a 'press pass'," she chuckled. "As in, 'this gets me where I wanna go when I know I shouldn't be there'," she added.
Cindy looked at Alyssa in a curious way, thinking of something. "What's with this 'blondie' stuff? You're blonde too," she pointed out.
"Wow, nothing gets past you Cindy, huh? I hear Captain Obvious is looking for a sidekick, maybe you can make the next tryout," Alyssa replied. She opened her mouth to say more, but the sudden screech of the fire alarm masked her words. Both women covered their ears, their faces pained by the high-pitched squeal. They headed for the stairs, bumping into George and Yoko, both out of breath.
"Where's Jim," asked Cindy, looking around, her voice worried.
"He's on the roof, I think," Yoko answered. They heard quick footsteps above them between the pulsing rings of the fire alarm, and Jim turned the corner meekly, half expecting Alyssa to shoot at him again.
"Yo, the place is on fire," he yelled over the alarm.
"No shit," said Alyssa, rolling her eyes. How did she ever get stuck with this hopeless bunch?
"Yeah, but the alarm is ringing outside too," Jim yelled louder. "Them undead fuckers are crawling out of the woodworks to get in here now!"
"Where's the fire coming from," asked George, before seeing the smoke rising from the bottom of the stairs. "What other escape routes are there besides the front door, Alyssa?"
"Wait," cried Yoko. "Alyssa, I need to login to your database first!" The others turned to her in shocked disbelief.
"Are you fuckin' kidding me," whined Jim. "This place is going up in smoke and you wanna play with the computer? Let's just get the fuck out of here!"
"I'm inclined to agree," said George. "Yoko, we can find evidence on Umbrella elsewhere. No need to risk our lives now," he added.
"But…" her voice trailed off, the loud crackle of burning wood snapping her from her thoughts. Her eyes met Alyssa's, and the two seemed to nod in unison.
"You guys, take that window over there," Alyssa said, pointing to the window behind them. "There's a dumpster to land in. Don't worry, mostly paper," she grinned, seeing the look on Cindy's face. "We'll catch up with you!"
"Wait, what do you mean," cried Cindy. "We have to go now!"
"Careful Cindy," said Alyssa. "You almost sound concerned for me. I figure it's about time I did something for someone else," she added, folding up her article and sliding it into Cindy's hand. "Get this out there," she said, her eyes somber and serious. "The people have a right to know." It might've been the choking smoke, or the distorted haze of the fire, but it appeared to Cindy for a moment as if Alyssa's eyes were wet with tears.