Chapter Nine: The Attic

Isolation pressed in around Jill as soon as the door shut behind her and Barry. Maybe, I should stay behind. Wait for him. Nothing would get done then. Bravo team was still out there, not to mention Wesker and Chris as well. Hopefully. So, she took a deep breath and continued down the dimly lit corridor.

She turned to a door on her right and opened it, leading to a narrow hall that only seemed to connect to another door. Beyond that door, the state of the adjoining hall was worse. Cracks formed on the wallpaper, and large spider webs hung in corners. A thick layer of dust covered the wooden floor, muffling Jill's footprints. Two doors led off from this corridor—one up a short flight of stairs, and the other off to the left. Jill chose the one up the stairs.

She traveled with only half a mind. The other half lingered back with Barry. She couldn't imagine how his position might be. If she had anyone to go home to, she might have felt the same. If she did make it out of this alive, the only thing she'd be going home to was an empty apartment just outside downtown Raccoon and another set of PTSD trauma. It didn't bother her though. Where some people might find loneliness a burden, she found it to be a constant companion. After all, she learned from a young age that she had to.

Jill entered an attic that must have been only a portion of the size of the previous corridor. Cobwebs clung to the walls and a shelf of dust-covered bric-a-brac to the side. The room was clear, except for the single wooden pillar in the center of the room. The floorboards creaked beneath her foot with each step forward. She sighed. Looked like another dead end.

A large shape moved in the ceiling just out of the corner of her vision. Jill turned to spot the mass darting right for her. She jumped back, and what she saw her mind couldn't completely comprehend at that moment. A snake's head, the size of which roughly comparable to the full length of a dog, stared at her. Its mouth hung open with saliva dripping from its maw. Two fangs, each at least a foot in length, extended from its mouth. The snake darted forward again, ready to snap Jill into its jaws.

Jill sidestepped, though she could feel the wind made by its passing head and the foul, decaying smell that came from within it. Its head rested on the floor. Jill could feel the thing's weight press against the floorboard as it unraveled from the rafters. She turned toward the door, but the behemoth creature had already slithered around the room until it's front stood between her and her escape. The massive snake raised its head and opened its maw.

Fear gripped Jill so violently that she couldn't move. How could something like this exist? It was impossible! Those dagger-like fangs retracted from its gums once again, dripping with saliva. It lunged toward her once again. All she saw was the endless darkness of its gullet. It would eat her whole in one swallow. Jill could picture her legs kicking out of its mouth as it arched back and she slid down into it.

Her limbs suddenly unlocked, and she dashed to the side once again. This time, she wasn't quick enough. Though she managed to escape the creature's jaws, the tip of its fang tore through her pants and into her flesh. Jill only felt the heat first as tumbled to the floor. Then, quicker than she expected, the heat burned white-hot and radiated from the wound. She cried out. Jill wanted to lay and scream as the venom spread up her leg, and the wave of pain radiated outward.

All she saw above was an open maw and dagger-like fangs bearing down on her. Jill swung the shotgun around and pulled the trigger. The weapon kicked back painfully on her shoulder. A high howl came from the snake as it coiled backward, shaking its head back and forth. Jill pumped the shotgun once again to deliver another round, but the snake was already turning and crawling up the wall. Its head disappeared through the opening of a broken window. Quicker than Jill thought something that large was capable of, the snake's body disappeared.

Jill lied panting, the dust clinging to her nostrils. She half-expected for the serpent to burst through the ceiling after its reprieve and finish its job. All was still. Adrenaline faded from her body, and she felt the surge of pain renewed. Jill howled, clutching at the wound. The upper thigh of her right pant leg was torn open. Beneath it was a dark gash, and the fabric around it darkened as her blood seeped through. She pressed a hand against it. Pain exploded from the area, and she had to clench her teeth to not scream out again.

Her vision clouded for a moment. Don't you go into shock, Jill told herself, forcing the darkness back. For a moment, she thought she was going to pass out, but her vision slowly came to, if a little blurry. Jill closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Sweat moistened her hot face. A burning sensation crept up her leg from the wound until it was now in her upper thigh and heading toward her pelvis.

She needed to get back to Barry. The thought of standing made her want to vomit. Get up, Valentine, a voice told her in the back of her head. Get up or die. Jill took a couple more breaths, clutched the support beam beside her, and forced herself up. The agony was immense. Even with most of her weight put on the beam, the threat of unconsciousness once again became a possibility. After a moment, the pain subsided a little.

The door was only a couple of feet away, but now, it might as well have been a mile away. Jill shuddered to think about the journey back to the foyer. Still, she locked her jaw and took a step forward. It felt as though Jill had just dipped her right leg and a portion of her pelvis into molten lava. Her legs buckled and she fell.

Goddamn it, don't pass out!

Still, the poison coursing through Jill was winning. She put her arms under herself, but her body was too heavy to move. Her vision blackened. Jill thought that she heard the door open, but she couldn't think on it for long before she finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

Gunfire. Heat. Sand.

The Iraq weather took Jill's breath away. All she felt was hot sand within her lungs. She saw a boy, his form hazy distorted by gusts of sand and heatwaves. The boy stumbled toward her, clutching his stomach, looking nearly emaciated. Even from this distance, she could see his ribs protruding from his sides.

"Its alright," she wanted to tell him, but the heat constricted her vocal cords. So, all she could do was walk forward. However, the closer she drew, the more she noticed something was off. Like the slow, jerky movements he made, or the livid pallor of his skin.

Or how half of his jaw hung off his face.

Jill thrashed about as the scene faded away, consumed by the dark.

"Hey there, it's okay," a gruff voice said. Jill stopped struggling and allowed herself to slip back into the darkness. What she heard next, though, made her unsure if it were in her head or not.

"You sure this will work?" she heard Barry say, his voice tense.

"Yes," Wesker replied. "We can't have her dying this early."

"You leave her out of this."

"She's already apart of this. We all are."

Jill groaned as she woke up once more. Her leg throbbed fiercely, but it was nothing like it was before. She slowly opened her eyes, expecting for the light to blind her. However, the room's lighting was gentle and faint, and she was quickly able to take in her surroundings.

She lay on a cot in what looked to be a small storage room. The room was scarcely furnished with only a writing desk, a shelf of chemicals, and a large metal box beside the door. Barry sat on the box, checking his .44 magnum. When he realized that Jill was waking, he sat his weapon aside.

"Thought you were gonna sleep for the rest of the night," he said with a chuckle. Jill sat up, making sure not to move her right leg too much. There was a bandage around the wound, and though her leg felt stiff, there wasn't much pain.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Seems like you got into a bit of trouble," Barry said. "I heard you shouting all the way from the entrance. Found this place a while back and thought it might be the best place to take you. Just got lucky, I suppose."

Jill held her head, her mind still fuzzy. There were still things that didn't make sense—like how did Barry know exactly what medication to give her? She might not know him very well, but she also knew that he was no medic. Unless he hadn't been alone. She remembered Barry and Wesker talking in her dream.

If it had been a dream.

"Was Wesker here…just now?"

"What?" Barry replied, his head perking up. "No, no. I haven't seen him since we got here."

Barry grabbed his weapon, sprang up from his seat, and started for the door.

"Are you alright to walk?" he asked.

Jill slowly extended her leg. There was a slight tugging beneath the bandages—most likely stitches, Jill thought—but everything else felt relatively alright.

"I think so," she replied.

"Good," Barry said, nodding. "I think I spotted some kind of guest house out back. Maybe that's where the others are held up."

Jill nodded and slowly stood. Barry opened the door, hovering over the threshold waiting for her. There was a nervous, jittery nature to Barry that seemed out of place.