PROLOGUE: paper flower smiles

Cast me gently into morning, for the night has been unkind

Sarah McLachlan, "Answer"

She sat on the metal bench across the wall of the back of the van, looking down. A CD player sat on her left thigh, trapping the black fabric of the skirt she would only be wearing for a couple more hours underneath it, headphones nestled around her neck, playing "Nymphetamine" loud, annoying the others in the vehicle, but she didn't seem to care. Her hand was closed around a half-empty McDonald's cup, almost forgotten. A bag, containing her change of clothes and some other necessities, rested on the bench next to her. By her foot, propped up against her bare ankle, was the handgun that had served her so well for so long. Her dark hair, black with reddish highlights, was pulled back into a ponytail, whisper of a scar on her temple from old abuses. She crossed her arms loosely over her chest, looking up finally, eyes the color of faded paper flowers, light lavender, finding the one she followed and questioning him silently. A nod from him confirmed her suspicions.

The man she had looked to sat on the bench opposite her, long legs pulled up onto the thin steel beam, violet eyes several shades darker than hers staring out the window, directing to the others in the van only when he felt it necessary. His blonde hair, only just long enough to necessitate restriction, was pulled back tightly. He wore his "working" clothes already, not as shy as she had become, a tank top and jeans more than enough for him. The gun he held was a .44, slender and shining metal. He had a shotgun propped against the wall, but he knew they wouldn't be needing that yet. A book he hadn't picked up since he had set it down at the beginning of their ride sat on the bench nearby, bookmark a small burst of color on the otherwise unremarkable text.

The driver looked back at them in the rear-view window, a slender woman with brown hair and a polite, small 'love me' smile, a smile that denied the Desert Eagle that was tucked between the plastic storage piece between the passenger and driver's seats and her leg. She wore a serviceable, loose shirt with sleeves long enough to cover up the scars she had gained in their last "outing", and khaki jeans with enough room to move in. The only vanity she allowed herself was the thin black choker around her throat, hiding the last of the scars. Her green eyes seemed to hide secrets within, but she never spoke them aloud. She smiled at the two in the back, a smile that was at once a reassurance – "we're okay" – and a warning – "be careful."

The final member of their miniscule team sat in the passenger's seat, pistol shoved down on the floor so that it wouldn't be seen from out the window, which he looked out, hoping he wouldn't spot any police officers on their trail. He was the lookout on this little voyage. His red hair was pulled back loosely, twin strands framing his face. His eyes were a dark red, like the glow of dying embers. He gave the others a thin smile and nodded when he saw the "city limits" sign. The smile was a façade, confidence he didn't really feel. This wasn't exactly a joy ride, after all.

"This is it?" Shane asked, looking up from the window, back at the others, his expression unreadable.

"Yes," Vivian replied, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Adrian? Are they here already?" Evan queried, looking back at her.

"Yes."

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VIRUS 1: misplacing denying mystifying

What ravages of spirit conjured this temptuous rage, created you a monster…

Sarah McLachlan, "Do What You Have To Do"

If it weren't for the sheer size of it, the building would be unremarkable. Metal and glass, a sterile-looking laboratory that rose some ten or fifteen stories into the blue sky above. The pair standing before it were also purposefully unremarkable, a brunette woman and a blonde man, wearing clothes that might have belonged to any of the numerous people who passed them by as they stood, watching the building for a long moment before either dared venture inside.

"Ch'," Shane shook his head, taking a step forward before looking back, almost hesitantly, as his companion. The green-eyed young woman nodded, and he continued walking inside, trying to look as casual as possible, to seem as though he belonged within those hallowed halls better known as Umbrella Inc.'s Beverly offices. He hardly spared a glance for anyone who happened to pass him by, passing himself off as important and thus, untouchable. He had a fake I.D. handy anyway, and as soon as he showed it to the guard, found himself ushered off to gods-only-knew-where, deeper in the facility.

Vivian looked down at her identification card, only slightly nervous. If their plan failed… but it couldn't fail. She wouldn't let it. She had seen what Umbrella was capable of, being a survivor of the Raccoon City outbreak herself. It was with that thought that she stepped forward, confident in the face of this opposition. She had no idea what to expect, and she had only a half-formed plan, but she knew what they had to do, and that was enough. As Shane worked on getting information out of the employees, she would be going to…

"Oh!" She tripped to the side, shoved by someone in too much of a hurry to notice her, and almost hit the wall. Moving to walk on, she found herself caught up by something, and somehow, almost inconceivable, she found herself in a human-sized chute, headed down.

She landed in a heap on a cold metal floor, her I.D. slipping from her fingers and sliding a couple of feet away. She struggled to her feet, trying not to slip on the smooth steel beneath her, only to come face-to-face with the one person here she above all else did not want to run into, especially not literally: a security guard.

"…this yours?" He asked, holding out her identification card, slender white plastic with the mark of Umbrella, Inc. on it. The name on it, Dr. Phoebe Summers, was an alias, of course. She couldn't very well put her real name on it. "…Doctor Summers?"

He raised an eyebrow at her as she took the card. He was taller than she was, with shoulder-length red hair pulled back, and curious eyes of a shade of amber that was so dark it was almost red. His uniform was one worn by security guards everywhere, a uniform, blue, emblazoned with the red-and-white Umbrella mark and his name, Evan Catelain, in white. She looked at him for a long moment, trying not to seem too much like she was sizing him up, even though that is what she was doing.

No, there was no way she could take him in a fight. Not a fair one, anyhow. And they were both armed, so it would be more or less fair – except that she would bet money that her Desert Eagle was of far better make and model than whatever he was carrying, but that hardly mattered. One good shot from him would be worth just as much as a well-placed shot from her. At any rate, she was very glad that she looked like a Phoebe Summers just as much as she looked like a Vivian Hart, and she anticipated little trouble.

"...yes, that's mine. Thank you." She smiled politely at him, conspiring to look a little bit more innocent than she was, and a little clumsier. "I was pushed in the hall, and I fell down that chute," she explained, pointing behind her to the hole in question, looking a bit flustered. "It's my first day, I don't even know where the labs are…"

He smirked, and she fought against her immediate instinct to get the hell out of there. After all, they were alone in a hallway… Oh, shit, she thought, looking to the side without turning her head, hoping someone else would come along before this guy could do anything. That smirk spelled nothing but trouble for her. He reached out to touch her arm, but she flinched back, giving him a sharp little look. He backed off, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, grinning. "I'll show yah where the lab is, okay? You're lucky, you fell on the right floor."

She smiled gratefully, nodding. He started off down the hall, and she followed, matching his gait despite his longer legs. The hall was sterile, white and silver, lots of metal. Easily cleaned and easily contained. She shuddered, knowing even before she set foot in the laboratory what was being done here, what was happening to the poor animals that were most likely kept here…

"Hey, here it is," the guard, Evan, informed her, and she snapped out of her thoughts to see that they were now standing in front of two big double doors, white, with a lock. She used her I.D. to open the doors, and stepped inside, aware but not acknowledging that Evan was still following her.

The room was huge, containing a myriad of huge containers that looked vaguely like large test tubes seated atop computer systems, complete with lots of buttons and blinking lights. She motioned for Evan to stay where he was, though he didn't listen, and she could hear his footsteps behind her. She stepped forward, looking at the tubes as she passed them. What they contained… it was horrible. Monsters.

"Don't touch anything," she warned Evan in a low tone, looking back at him only briefly, green eyes sharp and dark. "We don't want these things loose…"

"What are they?" The redhead asked, crimson eyes wide, bewildered by the sight that lay before them. A green, scaled creature of unsure origin was suspended in a tube near him, and he skirted back, away from it. The tube Vivian was approaching was the largest, and she felt herself shaking as she took in the sight before her.

"Umbrella's pet projects," she muttered, her voice shaking slightly. "Experiments… biological weapons."

Evan took a step back, away from the thing in the huge test tube in front of Vivian. He heard his sneakers scuff the floor. He was worried, wondering what in the seven Hells were these things, and why would a pharmaceutical corporation make biological weapons, and a thousand other questions that he didn't think he would ever get the answers to.

As he stepped back, it registered suddenly that there were other tubes in the room, about five seconds before he felt himself hit against something behind him, and heard a small "beep" sound. He saw Doctor Summers turn around at the sound, her green eyes widening, lips parting just slightly. Then he turned around himself, slowly, backing away even as he did.

The tube was opening up. The thing inside was free.