Chapter One: Lurkers in the Wood
The searchlight swept the Arklay Forest for any sign of Bravo team. The woods remained an impenetrable mass of green against the black night, swaying gently within the summer breeze. Everyone remained silent. Even Barry, who would occasionally crack the joke, was quiet. This had never happened—an entire team disappearing. She glanced at Chris, sitting in the co-pilot's seat. He sat rigidly, staring off.
Ever since he started, Chris kept to himself. Jill had tried to be as friendly as possible, yet he remained standoffish. At first, she thought it was just her, but then she noticed that he did it to everyone, with the only exception being Barry. Part of her wondered what Chris was thinking about right now…Jill sighed and glanced back out the window—
"Wait," she said. "Over there. To the right!"
The light hovered over the area Jill indicated and landed over what looked like a hunk of metal nestled in a thicket of broken trees.
It was Bravo team's helicopter.
Jill's heart wouldn't stop racing. She kept patting the standard-issued Beretta holstered on her thigh, mainly just to reassure herself that it was still there. The ground raised as the sound of the helicopter's propellers faded. Jill took a deep breath, clearing her mind. This was just another standard operation. She had far worse missions in the past—like her deployment in Iraq. Jill still felt her boot crunch against the barren, gray terrain. The helicopter's blades sounded like the cry of that boy; his eyes wide due to his sunken features, ribcage protruding from his pale flesh—
The helicopter landed. The slight jar shook her back to the present, though that sense of foreboding lingered. Chris stood, stepped into the back with the others, and pulled the door open. A gust whipped into the helicopter, bringing with it the scent of grass and the silence of the forest. For a moment, Chris's steely gaze connected with Jill's. He gave a curt not before drawing his handgun and flashlight and heading out into the night.
Barry and Joseph Frost followed, and Jill and Wesker took the rear.
"Keep the engine running," Wesker told Vickers. He turned to the pilot, fixing him with a glare Vickers felt even beneath the Captain's thick sunglasses. Jill noticed beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he trembled slightly. She had known the team called him 'Chickenheart,' she had always thought it was hyperbole. Guess not, she thought. "If something happens, you know what to do."
"Yes, Captain," Brad Vickers replied, nodding curtly.
"To your position, Valentine," Wesker replied, barely looking at her as he joined the rest of Alpha Team. Jill muttered a quick, 'yes Captain,' before darting out of the helicopter and drawing her flashlight and Beretta.
Hairs on the nape of her neck prickled. As though something watched them. She rounded on the forest, casting her light into the trees. There was nothing there. Only shadows of low-hanging branches and the thigh-high grass. A thin layer of fog veiled the forest. Jill took a deep breath, righting her nerves. Maybe it was the fact that a S.T.A.R.S. team—one of the most highly trained forces under police employment—all disappeared in one night, or maybe it was the look on Brad's face, but something was wrong. Nothing had even happened, yet the look on Vickers' face…he looked like a spooked animal, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Bravo team's abandoned helicopter-laying tilted with its door hanging open-did nothing to elevate the tension.
"Frost, record," Wesker said. Joseph grasped the miniature camera attached to his shoulder, turning it on. The team fanned out in a half-circle around Bravo helicopter, aim pointed on the forest, while Frost climbed into the dark cabin. A moment passed before he emerged. His face was stark white.
"It's Dooley," Joseph said. "He's dead."
Jill felt her heart seize up for a moment. She hadn't known him well, but still, there was a shock that landed, like finding your neighbor dead.
"Jill, confirm?" Wesker said.
Jill headed toward the abandoned vehicle, the open threshold black. Joseph leaned back against the door. A red bandanna hid his short crop of brown hair, the long end of the cloth tied in the back looked like a ponytail in the dark. Jill nodded, her eyes soft. She knew how it was—seeing a corpse. This wouldn't be her first time seeing one, but still, it wasn't easy.
She climbed onto the helicopter. The stench of rot overcame her. It filled the cabin with its sweet odor and made Jill's stomach twist. She took shallow breaths. Kevin's body lied across from the door, sprawled out. Jill didn't have to bend to check his pulse. His jugular had been ripped out, leaving a gaping hole of torn muscle and flesh where his neck used to be. Two fingers on his right hand were gone, as was his left eye. The look on his face was the hardest for her to look at—mouth agape, his remaining eye wide. An image of absolute terror.
Jill backed out of the cabin. She took a deep breath of clean, night air. At first, the stench of decay lingered in her nostrils. With each breath, it faded.
"Dooley is dead," she replied.
Wesker nodded, though little other emotion crossed his face.
"Fan out," he said. "Search the area."
The group kept their tight, circle formation, and slowly spread. The forest was silent, all except for the subtle crunching of earth underfoot or the shifting of equipment. Still, Jill couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Shadows seemed to move between trees. Just as Jill pointed her flashlight in its direction, it was gone. Come on, she told herself. Stop getting spooked by everything. After all, this wasn't her first mission. Granted, the S.T.A.R.S. unit—a unit created for anti-terrorism efforts-wasn't particularly used extensively in a place like Raccoon City. Though, they still got the occasional gang fight or school bomb threat to keep them busy. To be honest, Jill would take it over her time in the armed forces any day.
Another bit of movement caught the corner of Jill's eye, and she could have sworn she heard the rustling of shrubbery. As usual, there was nothing there. Something dark glistened on the scrub's leaves. Jill edged forward. The closer she drew the more distinct the crimson's color became. A lump clung to the leaf's tip. It looked like a piece of flesh.
Something growled behind. Jill whipped around, but by the time she faced the source, another sound pierced the night. It was high pitched and shrill enough to make her eardrums clinch. Moments slowed to a crawl. A dog stood on top of Joseph a few yards away. Joseph's screams mingled with the beast's snarl as it tore at his flesh and clothing with its teeth. The dog looked undernourished, and Jill could practically see its ribs from beneath its flesh—wait, no. It was the dog's actual exposed ribcage. Chunks of its black fir and flesh had been ripped out, leaving it a jigsaw of shiny meat and matted coat.
Jill raised her gun and fired. The blast at the end of the barrel temporarily blinded her. Yet, she kept her weapon even. She couldn't look away, even as three other of the mutilated animals came to join the feast. By the time her weapon ran out of bullets, Joseph's screams died. The creatures lumbered over his body, whipping their heads to and fro for another bite of his corpse. Still, Jill pulled the trigger to a resounding click.
One of the dogs turned its narrow head toward her, Joseph's meat still hanging from its maw. It's white, pupil-less eyes stared right at her. Jill stepped back and gasped. The dog lowered its head and charged toward her. Jill tried to take another step back. Her heel caught a root and fell back. She pushed herself to sit, but the animal leaped—its maw aimed toward her throat.
A flash to the right.
A wet substance specked Jill's face. Was that her own blood? Though, as quickly as she thought it, the mutilated dog tumbled to the ground before her. Even with the creature dead, she couldn't shake her eyes from its lifeless body.
"Come on," Chris said beside her. His arm slipped around her stomach and forced her up. Jill's legs felt thin and feeble, yet she forced them onward. Trees sprinted past them, only visible by the frantic motions of four flashlights. The gunfire came from all around her as Barry and Wesker fired behind. Still, the sounds of the creatures' panting and their feet running after them never faltered. The dogs seemed right at her heels, ready to pounce at any moment.
A fierce wind ripped through the trees and a light swept over them from above. The dark outline of the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha helicopter flew ahead and disappeared into the night. Jill's breath caught in her throat.
"Brad!" Chris yelled. "Where the hell is going!"
"Never mind!" Wesker said. "Quick! For that mansion."
Indeed, through the layer of fog and trees, stood a massive structure; light illuminating its many windows. Jill's legs pumped harder. She soon overtook Chris, keeping her feet up as to not trip over any stray roots or shrubs. She remembered little else but the burning of her lungs and the ache in her legs until she burst through the mansion's front doors.