Guilt Part II

Jesus, this is creepy, Vanessa thought as she looked around at the unnaturally bright hallways. Hospitals gave her the creeps. She'd assumed it was one of those Halloween movies that had initiated the fear for her. It didn't help that she was at the back of the group, either. If someone or something came from behind, she'd be the first to die. That sure didn't do much to calm her nerves, so when she heard the scream, she couldn't help but scream in response.

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Ok, rewind... Cindy told herself as soon as the scream had left Terry's throat. She had to have some time to take in what she was seeing before she could react. She remembered stepping into the doorway of the operating room, then she remembered the smell of blood, and then she looked up... and there he was... the old man from earlier, still swinging a little. He'd slit his wrists with a scalpel that he'd apparently taken from the medical tray next to the operating table and then hung himself with a bed sheet he'd fashioned into a rope. She only got a glimpse of his face before she was overwhelmed with emotion, burying her face in George's chest. "Oh no...God... No..."

Jeff broke the silence by walking into the room, "Oh, son of a bitch..." He put his hands up as if saying "Way to go, fucker!" He stood looking at the body for a few seconds, then perked up suddenly, saying, "Well, at least we have a body to bait the zombies with in case they get in here, huh?" Terry gave Jeff a disgusted look and stepped away from him.

George twitched slightly at this statement, turning around, "Excuse me? You sick bastard! Are you aware how much that man has lost today? He lost his entire family!"

"So, that means he doesn't have any family to bury him," Jeff chuckled, "Besides, don't suicides go to hell anyways?"

"You asshole!" George snapped as his fist met with the man's chin. He couldn't stand people like that. It was enough that he had to tell everyone else about Martin's death now, but in addition he had to walk back with this jerk-off.

"The hell! Are you crazy?" Jeff asked after his dazedness wore off. He held up his arm. "Hey, Terry, help me up."

"I'm 6 months pregnant. Of course, you'd be happy if I had a miscarriage, huh?"

Jeff scowled and struggled to his feet, grabbing onto a nearby shelf and knocking a few items off. He glared around at everyone, getting only cold looks in return. His eyes rested on Terry's angry face. You'll pay for this, you unfaithful bitch.

"Hey, where'd that singer chick go off to, anyway?" he asked, trying to forget his embarrassment and stop their staring. The others looked around.

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Vanessa was trembling. She had no weapon, her knife dropped in a panic, and the footsteps were becoming louder. They seemed to be drawn to her erratic heartbeat. Now there were more of them all headed to her protective closet. Suddenly they stopped right in front of the door. And then the knob was turning, and suddenly the door flew open.

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"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FREAKS!" The woman screamed as she flung her arms wildly at George, doing practically nothing to the guy. He managed to calm her down enough so that she could take a few solid, regular breaths.

She finally asked, "So did you find the guy?" George said nothing, but the look in the his eyes right before he broke eye contact spoke volumes.

"Zombies?" she asked, though she would have heard them killing it if that were true.

"No... " George shook his head, still not making eye contact. "It... looks like he commited suicide..." He seemed to bite down on the words.

"Oh my God..." The singer put her hands to her mouth. She had a look of guilt on her face, like she felt like it was her fault somehow. He wondered what she felt so badly about, and thought he'd talk to the others about it later.

"Let's go...we have to get back to the others..." he said, sounding more determined. He couldn't wait to get all this mess behind him for the second, and hopefully final, time.

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Vanessa sat there in the main lobby, next to the black woman and the man who had tried to rob her earlier. His name was Adam Kearney and he was 34. They had talked awhile when she'd first been deemed in good enough condition to sit in the lobby, and she had come to find that he was actually a pretty nice guy. Go figure.

Vanessa decided that she'd be a hypocrite to say that people shouldn't steal. She'd been stealing small things ever since she was little. Not stuff you'd usually get convicted for, but still, it was considered wrong. She'd steal clothes from a store by wearing them out the door when she was 11, and just started picking it up again recently. So she decided that being in the situation they were in, it was a common reaction, and that she shouldn't hold it against the guy as long as he kept his sticky fingers to himself.

She couldn't stand to think of that old man. He'd killed himself, thinking he had nobody left, and the last thing i did was call him rude. God, I'm such a bitch sometimes. As soon as I make it out of here, I'm getting some serious counseling.

Determined not to be remembered as the annoying nag for the duration of this fiasco, Vanessa made it a point to make nice with her fellow survivors. After all, one of them might end up saving her ass. That wasn't her primary reason, but it suited her tastes more than saying she didn't want to feel guilty about anyone else, like she did for that old man. With that on her mind, she turned to the black woman.

"Nice nails! How much did those cost?"

The black woman just stared at her.

"Oh sorry, " Vanessa muttered, holding out her hand, "Name's Vanessa Abbot; what's yours?"

The woman took her hand and shook it, though still not dropping her 'weirded out' look, "Um, I'm Tori Sommers..."

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George raked his fingers through his hair. He couldn't stop thinking about the look of guilt that was on that woman's face. Though he'd always thought of spies as being cold and unfeeling, he couldn't help but wonder if the singer could have played a part in Martin's death. If she was the spy they were trying to neutralize, she could be trying to pick off the extra people one by one so that she could make her way into the labs undetected. It made some sense, though she'd have to be quite an actress to show such shock at a death that she may have caused herself. Or maybe he was reading too deeply into this. He wasn't really sure anymore. He needed to talk to someone...

Cindy and Geoge were naturally seated on one of the waiting room couches across from Yoko and David. After all, they went to dinner together under their false names, so people wouldn't bat an eye to seeing them talking together. In fact, George thought that it might be best to talk to the other two more, to keep up appearances. He also wanted to talk to her because he enjoyed her company. Ever since the Raccoon incident, on the day that he had told her that he trusted her, he had become more and more fond of her - as a friend of course. He felt more comfortable speaking to her sometimes than he did Cindy. He got up and sat next to Yoko.

He leaned towards her and whispered, "So, what do you think of that singer?"

Yoko looked over, surprised by the question. "She seems a little selfish, but alright. Why?"

George noticed that Cindy was raising an eyebrow at him, and he realized that the question sounded a bit like a school boy talking about the new girl. "I mean, is she suspicious at all?" he explained, still keeping his voice low. "When we found Martin, she had a guilty look in her eyes. I can't help but wonder, was she involved in his death somehow? Could she be the spy?"

"I haven't seen anything suspicious. I'd imagine a spy to be ruthless, but it could be she still isn't used to killing," Yoko replied.

"I don't know," Cindy said, shaking her head. "I don't think she could be a killer."

"No one is above suspicion, Cindy. Anyone can be a killer. Looks, behavior, occupation - none of that matters," David said.

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"I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was a little emotional, and drunk, and I wasn't really in the mood to try another date. Of course, now my date standing me up is the least of my worries," Tori said. She thought it would be a good idea to get a little closer to the one she wanted protecting her. Her and Jim were sitting next to each other, with Mark nearby.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I can understand. Your date probably got his ass eaten, anyway," Jim replied. Tori laughed, even though she felt she shouldn't, it being such black humor.

"I'm gonna check on the other survivors," Mark said, deciding to leave the kids alone for a minute. He stood up and walked over to join George, Cindy, Yoko, and David.

"You know, I wasn't supposed to break my front, for the sake of my job. But you just looked so beautiful," Jim said.

"That's very sweet. There isn't much of a point worrying about your job now, though," Tori said, smiling. He smiled back nervously, then looked at the floor. She pulled a small book of crossword puzzles out of her purse, deciding that a little puzzling might help to calm her nerves. She clicked her pen. "Well, since you're here, you can help me with this. Now what's a nine-letter word for frog?"

Jim looked up, surprised. "It's amphibian." She smiled and wrote it in

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These fools were just asking to die. Sending a helpless woman with him only made the killing that much easier. He didn't even have to walk far to the escape route - the elevator was right next to the ladies' room. This was all going so smoothly.

The hag was completely useless to him, even as a means of collecting BOW data. A woman so far past her prime wouldn't stand a chance at surviving. She would only reduce the chances of the others, so really, he was doing them all a favor.

"Thank you for walking me here. It was very kind of you," she said, walking out of the restroom.

He smiled. "Not a problem, ma'am." And as she walked past him, he grabbed her and snapped her neck. He had let her relieve herself before he killed her - he didn't want her pissing all over him while he was doing his job. Now all he had to do was disappear. The idiots would assume he and the old woman were dead, or whatever. He didn't care. He was going to get the fuck out of this wretched town by sunrise, with a hefty amount of umbrella research and information in his possession.

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Hernan looked over at Tara. Yup, she was still staring blankly at the TV - he didn't think she even registered what they were saying. He thought he should talk to her.

"Tara?", he said. She turned her head towards him, her eyes focusing a little. "Is something the matter?"

She chuckled with little humor. "Everything's the matter, isn't it? But that's not what you meant, of course. No, I was just thinking about my family and my life. What if my loved ones are dead? What would I do then? I probably won't be getting a new job around here for a while, and I don't have much money saved up. Even if I survive this, my troubles won't be over."

"Well, I've got some family in Arizona. If you need someplace to stay, they could help us both out."

"Thanks, Hernan. I'll hold you to that," Tara said with a smile. But this dark thought came, unbidden; Unless you die, which is possible, if not likely. Then I'll have no one to turn to.

&&&&& End of Chapter &&&&&

SB: Awesome! We have a new Co-writer joining us today for the end of the story. And she's on my side about Wesker! MUAHAHAHAHA! Say hello to CannibalJello!

CJ: Sorry, I'm a bit slow today... Refresh my memory... Wesker's the blonde one right?

SB: No, he's naturally a brunette.

SSW: What do you mean, brunette!

CJ: (snickers)

SB: Yep. You just have to know where to look. Not that I was looking. The guy broke into my house and made me go down on him at gunpoint. I'm still getting over it. I need therapy twice a week...

SSW: (Twitches, face turning red) You'll need a lot more than therapy when I'm done with you, you dirty bastard! (Chases Sweetboxer with a javelin)

16 minutes later...

CJ: (Reading Wesker's autobiography) Wow, did you know that Wesker slept with a mentally retarded girl?

SB: Really? Was it Sylphstarwind?

SSW: I will throw your children into a lake of lava!

CJ: (Ignoring her) It doesn't say. But it's so cute. (Sighs) He tries so hard to be straight...

SSW: (Gritting teeth) Here. (Hands two test tubes labeled "T-virus" to CannibalJello and Sweetboxer) Drink these.

CJ & SB: (Look at the test tubes, shrug, and down the contents)

SSW: HAHA! You will be zombies in one hour!

SB: ...Well, then I guess now would be a good time to tell you I cleaned out your test tubes so CannibalJello and I could have something to hold our collection of harmless edible green liquids.

CJ: I like the lime green the best...

SSW: That virus was worth good money, you idiots! Now I'll have to collect it all over again! God, I hate you two... For my revenge, I shall-- Wait, you didn't pour it down the drain or something, did you, thereby releasing the T-virus upon this city? No, that would just be stupid... What am I saying? Of course you did! This is gonna suck!

SB: Like Wesker... Or worse?

SSW: You must die! (Rushes at Sweetboxer with piano wire.)

THE END... Just leave a review before they kill each other.