Chapter 13: Reorienting to New Danger

As the dining rooms closed, Jill spared them a long glance before turning away. Barry was watching her, one hand idly scratching the scruff on his chin. It was a nervous tic Jill had memorized not long after she started serving with the man. She couldn't blame him, but a part of her was amused and comforted by the concern in his gaze.

"You going to be okay, Jill?" His eyes flashed toward where Kenneth's corpse was. "A lot has happened in the last ten minutes. I don't even know where to begin with Wesker's and Joseph's disappearance."

She laid a hand on Barry's arm as she smiled at him. "Thanks, Barry. I'm holding together for now."

That was mostly true. For better or for worse, Bruce's warning had given her a little more preparation than she had given to the rest of the team. She felt guilty for that, but her earlier reservations remained. Who would believe a story about zombies after being inundated with B Horror movies from Hollywood?

But they were here in a mansion with zombies. It would've been ridiculous were it not for Kenneth's grisly death and Daniel's dire warnings. The grief of a lost comrade was hovering at the edge of her perception. For now, professionalism shielded her as the mission took precedent over her feelings. She expected that.

She was more confused about what to make of Daniel. She had large reservations about not pushing him to return to Raccoon City. The wiry teenager was wounded, even if he could walk around. That didn't even touch on his emotional state which raised all kinds of red flags with her. She was surprised by how easily Captain Wesker had relented. She doubted Chris' advice had done much to sway him. So, why had the STARS captain allowed himself to be persuaded?

Speaking of which, where was he and Joseph? They had chased after Daniel on his orders, explicitly ordering Joseph to stay with him to secure the main hall. After only six minutes, both of them vanish without a trace? No gunfire, so nothing had ambushed the pair of them. What could have happened to draw them away from this position?

Too many mysteries, too little intel.

"Oh, before I forget," Barry said as he reached into one vest pocket. He pulled out a small item and held it out to her. "I meant to give this to you earlier, but it sort of slipped my mind."

Jill smiled as she took the lock pick. "Thanks, we may need it."

Barry nodded as he hefted his magnum. "Let's see what we're up against."


Chris hadn't felt this lost in his life since the immediate aftermath of leaving the Air Force. Ever since he had joined STARS back in '96, he had experienced nothing but purpose and satisfaction as he had worked hard to protect the people of Raccoon City. No matter how bad the investigation may have become, he could count on his skills and the rest of STARS to see it through.

That foundational strength of focus had taken a beating. This was not to say he was giving up. Oh no. He was more determined than ever to see this night through, come what may. No, what was eating at him were the questions. Wesker, the man he looked up to, had been anything but himself in the last twenty-four hours. From his strange absence when the first warning had come to his secret knowledge of this very mansion's existence. Chris didn't know how to explain it. What had happened a day ago to cause such odd behavior? The fact he couldn't answer the question disturbed him.

That was the first blow.

Then, there was Bravo Team. There were some great members on it, but Chris couldn't lie to himself about his biases. Among Bravo Team, two of them stood out: Forest Speyer and Rebecca Chambers. Rebecca was brand new and inexperienced. To think she might be in the middle of this biohazard disaster triggered his big-brother instincts in a strength he had not had to deal with since his sister had gone off to college. Forest was one of his best friends. He, Chris, and Joe had racked up a considerable number of drunken escapades off-duty. They were a power trio that transcended the team division. Instead of being among his comrades, Forest could be wandering around here, alone and outnumbered by odds he couldn't comprehend.

That was the second blow.

Now this latest twist in the night. Both Wesker and Joe had disappeared with no hint of their location? Chris refused anything could have killed the two of them in less than five minutes. Yet, if that was the case, then what the hell had happened? Why wasn't anything happening this night making sense?

He glanced down at the scrawny soldier next to him. Somehow, this teenager had survived one night of combat and had insisted upon returning for another serving. In any other situation, Chris would have found that admirable and inspiring. No such positive feelings emerged as he subtly studied the younger man.

Because something seemed off to him. It was something about how Sims carried himself. Chris didn't know how to describe it. It was that feeling, that instinct, honed by months of police activity and sniffing things out. Two years may not have been a long enough time to hone it to a razor's edge, but it was strong enough to warn Chris that not all was what it seemed with this bespectacled young man.

The strongest point supporting his instincts was Sims' confrontation with Wesker. How had he known that Wesker had known about the mansion? Chris had never seen Sims in his life and could almost guarantee neither had Wesker. Yet, the sheer conviction with which Sims had thrown his accusation. It had been genuine.

Why?

The pair of them walked toward the fireplace. This time, Chris' eyes could take in the place instead of trying to keep up with the sprinting soldier. He had never been able to tell the difference between elegance and gaudiness.

Expensive-looking decorations, or excellent fakes, demonstrated opulence all around him. A grimy vase which might have been a relic displayed itself on the other side of the dining room table. A renaissance painting hung next to the grandfather clock, pronouncing its worth or lying about its deceit. There was even an actual coat of arms above the fireplace. It was positioned below a pair of swords. For the first time in his life, Chris looked at them as potential weapons. As they neared, he frowned as he noted how dull their edges were.

He caught Sims glancing at the fireplace than at the table. "What is it?"

The soldier met Chris' eyes for a moment before shrugging. "Just wondering who lit the candles and the fireplace."

Random thing to wonder about. …but he has a point. Whoever did that would have had to waste precious time in a mansion filled with monsters. Chris grunted and said, "I want you to tell me everything you know."

Sims kept his gaze forward as they reached the door. "Everything? That's a lot. You want to give me a starting point? Also, you going first or me?"

"I'll take point," Chris insisted as he raised his handgun toward the door. When Sims put his hand on the handle, Chris continued, "On three. One, two, three!"

Sims yanked the door open as Chris surged forward. He turned left in the hallway. A moment later, Sims advanced behind him a step in the opposite direction. He does know clearing protocols. "Clear," Chris said.

"Clear," Sims answered before shutting the door behind them.

"Let's start with how you became involved," Chris began as he led the way. "Raccoon Forest is-"

His voice died as he heard a moan ahead of them. Chris edged around the hallway's corner… and froze.

Kenneth's corpse wasn't sprawled out over the carpet. It was standing upright. It held itself hunched over as faced away from Chris and Sims. Chris had seen the zombie movies. He, Joe, and Forest had watched a couple together as they had downed a few beers they had snuck in. They had laughed at characters who's will had cranked to a halt at the sight of an undead loved one. Who would so obviously freeze in such a dangerous situation the guys told each other?

Chris knew better now.

Oh, how he knew.

"I can take care of him," Sims whispered behind him. There was compassion and weariness tied in a knot in that voice.

After a moment, Chris shook his head before saying aloud, "No, he's one of mine. I'll do it."

At the sound of Chris' voice, Kenneth's body jerked around. The barest sinews held its jaws together, but that didn't deter it as it ambled toward them. Chris raised his Beretta.

"Between the eyes," Sims suggested.

Chris nodded and lined up his shot. Kenneth's body took a third shambling step before Chris squeezed the trigger. A nine-millimeter is not a powerful caliber. It can get the job done in a pinch, but it's not really meant to do a lot of damage. To Chris' shock, the back of Kenneth's head exploded out with the bullet. The corpse managed one more step before falling to the floor.

Chris released a deep breath before he gestured at Sims. "Let's keep moving."

"We should take whatever ammo he had." Chris flinched at the brutal practically at the suggestion before glancing at Sims. The young blond looked apologetic but said, "We might need the bullets."

Chris said nothing before he knelt down next to the corpse of his comrade. STARS was not supposed to be a combat unit. It was a police unit, first and foremost. Yet, it was a police unit that had to be ready for a variety of high-intense situations. As such, each officer carried his weapon and a spare clip. In some situations, they could be expected to carry up to three spares, but this cult investigation was supposed to be a recon mission.

Oh, how much had changed in 48 hours.

Chris secured both magazines. "Do you need a clip?"

"I could use a clip. I only have one spare."

"Here," Chris said as he handed over Kenneth's spare. "I've got a spare already."

Sims took it as Chris slowly rose. "Do you need a moment?"

"No. What I need to do is to make sure this doesn't happen to any other member of STARS." He paused. "Or to your friend." Chris started walking to the door Kenneth's corpse had been looking towards. "Your friend is a civilian, right?"

"Not much of one," Sims answered sardonically.

"You still haven't answered why you or your friends were in the forest. Your friend at the hospital didn't give much of an answer either." They reached the door almost hidden in an alcove. Chris nodded to Sims, and they took the same positions. "Three."

Moonlight streamed as Chris rushed inward. This hallway went in only one direction and was a simple matter of following it. "Well?"

Sims was right behind him as the followed the hallway's hard turn to the right. "We were supposed to be headed to a Family Day picnic. We tried to take a shortcut and got lost in the forest. We ran out of gas, try to hoof it, and ran into Kevin."

They reached the end of the hallway. Light held strong here as it bathed a stairwell heading up to the second floor. A birdcage held a dead raven, and Chris could honestly say it wasn't the worst thing he had smelled. Sims himself smelled awful. It wasn't just B.O. either, and Chris could swear he smelled somewhat of sewage. It was annoying, but Chris wasn't going to hold that against the soldier.

That story, though, that was bullshit.

Chris turned to Sims. Then he paused. This was the first time he had a good look at Sims' uniform. And it wasn't right.

"Those aren't BDUs…"