Chapter Three: Partners

Twilight was falling over the Arklay Mountains by the time Chris and Jill reached the gate to Arklay National Park, a series of interconnecting hiking trails at the foot of the mountains. Perspiration dotted Chris's forehead and a veil of gnats buzzed incessantly in front of his face. How much easier it would have been just to drive his Jeep up here. Instead, they parked it about a mile up the road in the back lot of a shopping center. Hopefully, the R.P.D. or Umbrella doesn't go looking.

The park's guardhouse was black and the gate slid shut, stopping any vehicle from entering. A sign was taped to the inside of the guardhouse window:

Due to the city-wide curfew, Arklay National Park is closed until further notice. We apologize for the inconvenience.

-Mgmt.

Beyond, the forest stood, casting the route ahead in relative darkness. Even the light posts that normally dotted the entrance leading to the parking lot were shut off. More than likely to discourage any trespassers.

You can turn back, he thought. It's not too late. Umbrella's liable to get caught sooner or later. You don't have to be the one to take them down. If they turned around, they could be back at the Jeep in twenty minutes and home just before curfew. Pack up your things. Leave town. Claire would be happy to take you. She keeps nagging about moving to Chicago anyway—

"Almost makes you wish were going in like last time…with a whirly-bird," Jill said, awkwardly laughing at her own half-hearted joke. Chris returned with a smirk, but it did nothing for the rapid beating of his heart. Like last time. The memory of the night hung about like a bad taste. The last night most of them had been alive.

Chris shouldered his backpack and took a step forward. With one last look back, Jill followed him into the darkness of Arklay.

Their travels through the park's trails were more difficult than Jill had intended. The only light that helped them came from the quickly dissipating twilight, but even that was barely enough to keep her from tripping over the tiniest root or rock. She thought of bringing out her flashlight but thought better of it. They didn't know who or what could be watching out here. The longer they could go without drawing some kind of attention, the better. She glanced over at Chris, who seemed to have no trouble keeping upright.

"Wish I had your balance," she said in a low voice. A break in the darkness revealed Chris's smirk.

"I wouldn't call it balance," he replied, stepping over a gnarled tree root. "I had grandparents who lived in Raccoon City when I was a kid. My parents used to bring my sister and me out here to visit them. We always came here and checked out the local wildlife. I know the trails pretty well."

"Sound like you and your family were pretty close," Jill replied. The smirk on Chris's face receded into a thin hard line across his face. Sure, back then had been fine. Better than fine, even. When there was nothing but his parents and Claire. The perfect family. Until he screwed it up.

"It wasn't bad then," Chris said. "Claire—my sister—and I would always race each other down these trails or find sticks and play army in the woods. It's almost ironic I'm back, over a decade later, with a backpack filled with ballistics."

"Yeah," Jill replied. Everything about life lately had become ironic. Survive a horrible conspiracy only to come back to have no one believe you. Going to look for evidence at a place that had already exploded. If Jill didn't know better, she'd say God had a really bad sense of humor. Just like Chris's dismissal from the air force.

"I know it's none of my business," she said. "But that thing…about what Atkins said with you and the air force. Is it true?"

"You're right," Chris replied. "It's none of your business."

Jill was glad that it was dark. She could feel her face reddening.

"Fair enough," she said. Chris didn't reply and the two walked on in silence. Great, Jill thought. Not even an hour in and I've pissed him off. Jill pushed the thought to the back of her mind, but it didn't stop blood rushing to her face. After all, to dwell on something so insignificant tonight of all nights would probably distract her at best. At worst, it would get her killed.

"Here," Chris said, walking to the edge of the trail. The forest stretched out in a tangle of undergrowth with a canopy so thick that the night sky was nearly invisible. Chris took off his backpack, pulled out a flashlight from within, and switched the device on. A halo of light pierced through the darkness of the wood, casting long shadows over the forest floor. "It's this way. We should be able to set up camp soon."

Jill and Chris tramped through the forest well into the night. After about forty-five minutes of trudging through the thick vegetation, the ground started to rise. The incline was steady at first but quickly steepened. By the time they reached the hill's crest, Jill was all but climbing on her hands and knees. She pulled herself over the edge onto the soft grass awaiting her. She lay there, looking up into the clear dark sky. Stars brightly twinkled in the night. They were never that bright in the city. The light pollution always tented the night sky orange, obscuring the universe above. Jill took a deep breath, the clean air making her lightheaded.

Jill saw Chris's black figure rise out of the corner of her vision. Like some creature lurking in the woods. She sat up, though what she saw made her mouth drop open.

"Wow," she muttered. "It's beautiful."

Below was the towering, lit skyline of Raccoon City. The city glowed in the evening as though it were illuminated by some ethereal light. Jill watched the shifting headlights of vehicles speeding down the street but couldn't hear their noises. Couldn't smell the stench of exhaust, only of pine. It was like watching a movie but everything was just within her grip.

"It is," Chris said. He stood by her side and watched the city go about its nightlife activities. Right now, the Nightingale Cinema was finishing its last show for the night (Jill usually heard the patrons chat as they made their way out of the movie theater) and Jack's Bar (one of Chris's hotspots before all of this started) would probably be picking up. Those kids Jill had seen playing next to Barry's what seemed like ages ago were being tucked into bed—sleeping and unbothered by mutagenic viruses or the monsters created by it.

She and Chris were the last line of defense. The only line of defense. A bit melodramatic, Jill thought. Yet, standing there overlooking the unawares city while the darkness of the forest lay behind, it didn't seem as much so.

"Let's rest here," Chris said, putting his back down. "We should be able to get to the mansion in the morning."

Part of Jill wanted to continue onward. Get this all over with. But, the thought of returning to the Spencer Mansion at night, whether there were zombies or none, made her blood run cold. Besides, it would make their search more difficult now that she was sure that the remains of the mansion no longer had electricity.

Chris unzipped his backpack and started unloading boxes of ammunition and magazines. Finding a smaller flashlight in the front pocket, he turned it on, stuck it in his mouth, and started loading bullets into the clips. Jill opened her backpack and began doing the same. The work was tedious and Jill's fingertips started feeling numb from pushing round after round into the narrow magazine chamber but it wasn't work she altogether disliked.

"You know, doing this really takes me back," Jill said as she shoved another bullet in.

"Oh?" Chris asked.

"Yeah. I did a tour in Iraq a couple of years ago," she said. "Right before I joined S.T.A.R.S. Nothing impressive. Really nothing more than a glorified post. There were still terrorist groups. Extremists who weren't fans of the outcome of the Gulf War. They usually set their sights on small rural communities in Kuwait and we'd hop over to undermine their efforts when we could. I had a great team over there. A great partner too. His name was Travis Milligan. We used to shoot the shit in the barracks, loading magazines."

"Sounds like you did pretty well over there," Chris commented. "What made you want to get out?"

Jill felt her throat constrict. It had been almost a month since she had that old nightmare (newer, more prevalent nightmares had taken over), yet the image of it appeared fresh within her mind's eye. That boy…

"Things happened," she finally said. Chris nodded, but he asked no questions as he continued his work. Part of Jill didn't want to 'open old wounds,' as the old saying went. Yet, the trauma was already laid out there, bare for them to stare at. Perhaps Chris didn't want to press her. Maybe he didn't care. But this was a thread she had already pulled at and she felt the memory unraveling, ready to come out. "We received intel that a small village needed help," Jill went on. "About twenty miles away from the Iraq-Kuwait border. Reports said that these terrorists were planning on releasing some kind of parasite-experimental. We tried to get there to stop it. Thought we had enough time. By the time we got there though…"

The child's skin was dark and glossy against the scorching sun. His stomach bloated, yet his limps and torso looked as though skin draped over bone. The child's face, hairless, looked more like a blackened skull—

"We were too late," Jill said. "One-hundred percent mortality rate. Over two hundred people were eaten from the inside out by some…thing. There were some still alive by the time we got there. Maybe about fifty. None of them survived the week."

A brisk wind whipped through the trees, sounding like howls in the night. It felt chill against Jill's face. It wasn't until then that she realized the tears rolling down her cheeks. She turned away, quickly wiping them away.

"Why tell me all this?" Chris asked, not unkindly.

"It's something I've buried deep down," Jill replied. "I didn't want to face it. Didn't want to acknowledge there could be such…cruelty in the world. Such pain. But after everything that's happened over the past couple of months…" Jill turned back to Chris, who had stopped loading his magazines. "I want to be honest. Call it circumstance. Call it fate. Either way, for better or worse, we're partners in this."

Chris watched her, his face expressionless so that Jill couldn't tell what he was thinking. The wind picked up, shaking the trees so that their branches bristled. Jill looked up in time to watch a helicopter fly overhead, painted black so that it was almost impossible to see in the night. It swept past and went farther off into the forest until it disappeared behind the canopy. When Jill looked back at Chris, he wore the same look of surprise and worry that was written across her own face.

Umbrella was on the move.