Chapter 6: The Fundamentals of Survival

This could easily be the most embarrassing way to die. Please, God, don't let it happen like this. All around the young soldier, the forest spread out in a vast maze. The vibrant trees blinded him, the wet soil clutched at him, and the radiant sun blazed upon him. His close-cropped blonde hair clung to his scalp after being soaked in his sweat. With every step, his legs burned in protest, weary after miles of marching through the Raccoon Forest. The rifle's sling dug into his left shoulder, persistently trying to pull him down.

Daniel was not having a good day.

He had a simple plan that was going as awry as the first one had. His first one had also been simple. In the blink of an eye, he and several of his friends had been teleported into the world of Resident Evil. Upon discovering this, he led them directly into the starting level of Resident Evil 0 with the intent to meet with Rebecca and Billy, help them along with their adventure, and figure out a way back home. Objectives one and two had been a stunning success. Not only had Rebecca and Billy survive the night, Kevin Dooley, the obscure Bravo Team pilot had joined them, saving him from being devoured by zombie dogs. But it had come at a huge price.

Shantia and Bart, two classmates and battle buddies, had died as they had fought the rampaging monsters. Worst of all, Daniel could easily be on his way to join them. Although he had been trying to ignore it, he could still see the leech bites in his mind's eye. As of right now, the T-virus was making a home in his body. The odds of his survival were one in ten. Either he was immune and would become an even better fighter against the infected horde, or he wasn't and he'd be joining them in less than a week.

Probably less, given my wounds, he thought dourly as he glanced at his left arm. Day-old bandages protected a bite wound from outside infection. A gift from an infected baboon that had nearly attacked Rebecca, until Daniel had jumped in the way. While the Eliminator was probably unable to infect others, being wounded increased the infection rate regardless.

The third objective had been a complete failure. At no point during the night, did Daniel or his friends discover a hint of what power had brought them here or what could send them back. At this point, given his lifespan might be counted in days, he wasn't concerned. Right now, his current plan was to discreetly follow Jessica and Rebecca to the Spencer mansion and aid Alpha Team through their own night of horrors. He had sent the rest of his friends with Kevin Dooley to Raccoon City to summon Alpha Team and to get them to safe-keeping.

While he didn't know how well his second goal was going, he wouldn't be surprised if his friends had already reached the city. He wasn't sure how well Alpha Team would respond to Kevin appearing without any of the other members of Bravo Team, but he trusted that STARS would come out to investigate soon enough. Even if they don't believe Kevin, at least Tim, Katelyn, and Bruce are safe.

On the other hand, his first goal had failed miserably. He had lost track of Rebecca and Jessica at some point during the long walk and was now wandering around aimlessly in the vast expanse of Raccoon Forest. Which had led to his current fear: dehydration.

He took a moment to wipe off the sweat of his brow, and dried his hand on his shirt, creating the fifth dark spot on his tan t-shirt. The rest of his Army uniform was worse. Dried blood stains and sewage water were all over his camouflage pants. A Tyrant had cut off the combat jacket's left sleeve when it narrowly missed him during an earlier fight.

A small price to pay for keeping my head, he thought as he glanced at his jacket. Once the July summer day swung the temperature higher, he had taken off the jacket and tied it awkwardly around his waist, using the lone sleeve. While his arms were fine, his feet were melting in the desert combat boots. The boots were made for summer, but the standard issue green, wool socks countered that advantage.

He paused beneath a tree as he let the shade cool him off for a moment. Another scan revealed no distinguishing marks to guide him within the forest. Somewhere out there was a mansion and his comrades. There was also another zombie dog pack, but that didn't scare him right now. No, what terrified him was the small headache invading his cranium. In of itself, it was a minor nuisance, especially after the severe injuries garnered during last night's misadventures. But it was a signal for something that could kill him: a heat stroke.

When he had first enlisted, he did Basic Training at Fort Leonard Wood, during a record-high summer. Hours of training were lost when the entire company had to pause and wait for the heat to die down. He still remembered one memorable formation when a trainee behind him collapsed from heat exhaustion.

If I collapse here, I might just die before I even see the Spencer mansion. I survive an entire night of zombies, leeches, Eliminators, and a Tyrant, only to be taken down the next day by the Sun? That'd be so lame. Have to find water. He pushed off the tree and returned to meandering through the forest. Despite the T-virus outbreak, normal woodland creatures continued their daily hunts for food. Birds chirped above him and hopped between branches. A doe and a fawn briefly passed by the edge of his vision before heading deeper into the forest.

One fox languidly trotted into sight, stopping to investigate a bush. Daniel stared at it uneasily. Does blood have enough water to help? Do I have a choice? The headache is getting worse. He pulled at his rifle's sling until the M16 was in his hands. Moving as slowly and delicately as he could, he brought it up to his face as he assumed a firer's stance. Sweat stains clouded his glasses, but he didn't need perfect precision to make the shot. Sorry about this, but I need to live a bit longer.

Daniel squeezed the trigger.

The rifle made a click noise.

The fox ran off.

Daniel stared at the last spot where he saw the fox. Then, he glared at his rifle. "STUPID PIECE OF CRAP!" He yelled as he un-jammed the rifle, the rifle spitting out the bullet. Growling and grumbling, Daniel retrieved the round before he resumed his walk. If I'm not going to find any water soon, maybe I should just stop and wait for sundown. It'll be cooler and safer to travel. But what if a Hunter finds me? What if I fall asleep and don't wake up? Why did I think this was a good idea? I'm just on a roll of bad ideas. First, bringing my friends on this misadventure, then letting Billy punch me in the stomach, and now this mess. Daniel glanced over his shoulder to where the remains of the training facility were. I wonder how Billy is holding up. Hopefully, better than me.

The sound of his marching boots accompanied the forest's natural tune as he continued to look for water or someone who wouldn't bite his face off. The sun was high in the sky now, but his watch was a much more reliable at telling him the time: 11:15 am. I've been in this forest for five hours!? No wonder I just want to fall over. Daniel's frustration faded as a wave of dizziness fell on him. He took an uneasy step forward as his heart hammered in his chest. Not much time. Water, I just need water! If only I had a canteen.

Even as the world tilted around him, Daniel moved forward. To stop now was too risky. The dizziness had its fun as it tripped Daniel. Somehow, he kept his footing and pressed onward. His stomach complained, but Daniel shut it out of his mind. One step after the other. Just like Dory says. Just keep walking, just keep walking. Man, I would love to be swimming in water. Don't care if it was freshwater or saltwater. Just something.

A branch caught his foot and the ground leapt up to tackle him. He grunted as the M16 shoved itself into his empty stomach. It was nothing compared to the terror screaming in his heart. He pushed himself up, but his muscles protested. All of his energy was gone after all the walking without any kind of sustenance. What was the point? I'm so tired.

As his breathing quieted, the forest's music filled the gap. Birds singing. Insects chirping. Something bubbling. …bubbling? Daniel forced his head off the forest floor. His ears couldn't let go of the sound. Something directly ahead of him was bubbling. It could've been a river, a brook, or a creek, for all he knew. All it meant was that life was still within his grasp.

Doing his best to ignore the spinning world or the pounding headache, he crawled forward, doubtful he could walk. A row of bushes formed a weak barricade as he pushed through them. On the other side was a small hill. He crawled forward and came to a stop between two trees. The hill became a natural embankment as it abruptly dropped into a large stream. Three feet below him, water flowed past him, unhurried, unaware of his desperate need. It was deep for a stream, its clear water showing him the dirt bottom.

I'm gonna live! Thank you God! Not willing to tempt fate, he shed the rifle, his back-up handgun, all of the ammo, the herbal mixture, and explosives out of his pockets. Then, with all of the grace and poise of a walrus, he rolled off the hill. The cool water embraced and soothed him as it nudged away the layer of heat stifling him. For a moment, he floated as the soft current pulled his fear away. His boots dragged toward the bottom, but with a quick jerk of his arms, Daniel broke through the surface.

He wasted no time as he guzzled as much as he could. Only after his stomach was full did he stop and went back to lounging in the stream. In hindsight, I probably should be more worried if the water is clean enough. Oh well. His eyes focused on the scratched lens of his glasses, now waterlogged. "Should've taken those off too." He checked his pockets and groaned. "And I left my cell phone and my wallet in my pockets, too. Great." With a sigh, he swam toward the embankment. "Well, it's not like it can get any worse."

"Where the hell is Wesker?" Chris Redfield shouted as he slammed the phone down on the receiver. The former Air Force sergeant snarled as he stood to his full height. His dark blue eyes threatened to burn a hole in the electronic.

Jill Valentine yawned as she ignored Chris' growing temper. "Still no answer?"

Chris glared at the hapless office phone. "Nothing. He's not answering his cell phone or his house phone." He turned toward Jill. "Do you have another number we can try?"

Although he had already asked her twice, Jill shook her head. After her very unusual interview with Bruce, she had returned to the STARS office and called in the rest of Alpha team. Everyone came except Wesker. Jill had made the first attempt at 7:40 am, when she had returned from the hospital. He was the first one she attempted to contact and was surprised when he hadn't answered. Unusual, but she decided to try again after reaching the rest of Alpha team. Chris, Barry, and Brad had responded quickly, arriving at the police station ready to go not more than half an hour after their calls. Joseph had already been in the department awake and manning the radio throughout the night, so Jill had ordered him to take a quick nap before the others arrived. Her second call to Wesker went unanswered. As did the third one, when the STARS members began to file into the office.

Chris had offered to drive over to Wesker's address and retrieve him. While he did that, Jill gave the broad picture to the remaining Alphas. Kevin was dead, and Bravo team was stranded and in danger. When asked for details, she had staved them off by declaring she would explain in full after Wesker and Chris got back. Then Chris returned without Wesker, which led to them working on that mystery. After four hours, they had made no progress.

Out of all of them, Chris was the angriest. "We have a team that needs support ASAP and he's nowhere to be found. This is the most unprofessional thing he's done!"

"It's the only unprofessional thing he's done," Jill pointed out, trying to smooth out her compatriot's anger. Though the timing couldn't have been worse. She took another sip of the coffee on her desk. Despite being made of wood, the desk serenaded silently, inviting her to lay her down and get a few minutes of sleep. She was down a couple hours of sleep and was running on a breakfast sandwich from McDonald's that Brad brought in two hours ago.

Joseph hadn't bothered to resist. When it became clear Wesker wasn't coming in anytime soon, he'd folded his arms on his desk, plopped his head down, and had been sleeping ever since. Chris' yelling had yet to wake him.

"Still," Barry said as he grabbed a sprinkled donut. Barry always had a box somewhere on his desk. No doubt it contributed to his growing waistline, though age took some of the blame. "We can't keep waiting like this. I say if we don't hear from him soon, that we simply go without him."

Brad looked over from his spot manning the radio, his brown hair slicked back as usual. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Doesn't that violate some kind of regulation?"

Chris threw a glare at their pilot and Brad quickly withered beneath it. "Our teammates are out there in the forest without support and transportation. Do you think I care what the regulations say?"

"No," Brad squeaked.

"Chris, lay off," Jill answered. "He's just trying to help."

Chris grumbled something underneath his breath before he turned toward Jill. "It's been four hours. We can't expect when or even if Wesker will show up, so we need to get moving. Jill, how about you give us the rest of your information; we'll come up with a plan of action and execute. If Wesker shows up, then we'll fill him in. If he doesn't, we don't worry about him."

An uneasy feeling spread through her. She didn't like lying to her team, whether it be deliberate or by omission. But she doubted they'd believe everything Bruce had told her. She didn't even believe everything he'd said. Zombies? Giant monsters? A virus that sounded like it belonged in a B Horror movie? How much should I say? "Alright," she replied slowly. "You should wake up Joseph first."

"I've got it," Barry said before Chris could make his own attempt. After some gentle shaking, Joseph groused back to reality. Alpha's Omni Man shoved his bright red bandana back into place as he fought off a yawn.

Jill opted to stay in her seat as she explained. "The situation is worse than we anticipated. We feared there was a small cannibal cult, but there are far more individuals involved. We can expect uh, somewhere between fifty to one hundred cultists." She took a moment to clear her voice and to infuse more confidence into her voice. "In addition to the cultists, they have a pack of trained attack dogs and have been witnessed to ingesting a wide variety of narcotics to ignore self-inflicted wounds that create the impression of a walking corpse." She hesitated before presenting the next piece of information. "There may be a connection between them and the Umbrella Corporation."

The rest of the Alpha team had been digesting her information with looks of stern determination, growing disgust, and one case of open bewilderment. The mention of Umbrella raised a couple of eyebrows. "Jill, how sure are we of this connection?" Joseph prodded, his brown eyes freed from sleep. "Would Umbrella really involve themselves with something illegal as this?"

No, apparently, they're involved in something much worse. Jill kept that to herself. "I have no physical evidence of this, but it's something we need to keep an eye out while on mission. As of right now, the witness I spoke with has explained that Edward is also KIA, while Forest, Kenneth, and Richard are currently MIA. Captain Enrico and Rebecca are headed to the cannibal's base of operations. They are working with an army soldier known as Private Daniel Sims and a civilian known as Jessica June."

Chris grimaced. "Half of the team is missing, and Edward is dead? How reliable is this witness?"

"I have no idea," is what Jill wanted to say. Instead, she replied, "He's currently our only source of intelligence."

"Who's the soldier? And do we know how the civilians made it into the forest?" Barry asked. The balding officer bore a paternal air as he scratched at his beard.

"Unknown," Jill said, "the witness wasn't forthcoming on how they made it into the forest, only about what happened last night. Apparently, there were two other soldiers and a civilian who also died that were associated with my witness."

Before the conversation could go on, the office door opened and Wesker marched in, already dressed for a mission and wearing his signature sunglasses. Chris shot to his feet, "Where the hell have you been, Wesker!"

Wesker paused. "Chris, address me like that again, and I'll discipline you. I'm still your superior officer." He scanned the rest of them. "I want Alpha team in the air in fifteen minutes. No excuses. Jill, brief me on the way."

"Do you even have a vague idea of what's going on?" Chris demanded. "Sir."

"The messages left on my phone gave me a brief synopsis of the situation," Wesker said as he went through his desk, gathering his personal equipment. Without looking, he continued, "I understand that you're frustrated over my absence, but I will ground you, Officer Redfield, if you can't control yourself. If the situation is as dire as the messages implied, then I need officers that are alert and level-headed." He looked to Chris. "Understood?"

Chris fumed before taking a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get moving, team. Fifteen minutes."