I decided to give you guys 2 chapters this week, as a thank you for putting up with my frantic rewrites and constant Author's Notes. Enjoy :)
Tendrils of fog floated in front of the darkened building, giving the already ominous situation a stomach-churning sense of foreboding. The establishment itself had fallen into shameful disrepair, a fact obvious even from a considerable distance. The only thing about this operation that offered any semblance of reassurance was the fact all the lights were off, meaning we might just be able to snatch some sort of useful information and get the hell out. Though the original plan had been to confront Dad directly, I didn't feel quite ready to look him in the eye yet, given the last few times I'd seen him, I'd declared my dislike for him pretty damn clearly. Just because he hadn't experienced that yet, didn't mean I felt righteous and justified in my actions.
The chill of the night air caused me to shudder as I opened the door next to me and stepped out onto the pavement glistening with water.
"This is it," I heard Five mutter, his eyes unable to leave the towering monster before us. Despite my reluctance, I managed to move my feet and get relatively close to the entrance. However, the sight of my brother stopped dead in his tracks drew my attention backwards.
"'D.S. Umbrella.' This is it," Diego remarked. While he continued to assess our means of entry, I turned on my heel and gently wrapped an arm around Five's shoulders, snapping his wide eyes up in my direction.
"You okay?" I asked quietly, offering him a comforting smile.
"Yeah, fine. Just…" He shook his head and started to move, forcing me to walk with him. It didn't take much for me to figure out what was going on, and I certainly couldn't blame him.
"How long's it been since you've seen the old man?" Though he'd stated it not long ago, I almost always forgot how many years had passed for Five when he got stuck… mainly because I wanted to erase the event from my memory altogether. The thought of my younger brother, trapped and all alone, losing his mind…
"Forty-five years." I would have expected at least a little frustration, given that I didn't remember that detail, but his voice just croaked with fear.
"That's a trip," Diego grunted as he removed one of his knives from his belt and started to fiddle with the lock.
"No kidding." I hugged him a little closer as we leaned against the wall, hoping to calm his nerves enough so he wouldn't turn and run—not that Five was the sort. "You know, when I was stuck out there in the apocalypse, there wasn't a day that went by where I didn't hear his voice in my head."
"What was he saying?" I figured it would maybe be some piece of wisdom—something that pushed Five through and kept him going for as long as he did. Maybe it was even the thing that motivated him to find a way back to his family.
"'I told you so.'"
Then again, Dad wasn't the sort to mince words. Thinking back on it, I couldn't remember anything he said to any of us that wasn't some sort of correction or denunciation.
"Yeah, he did say that a lot…" Quickly, I shook my head, trying to get myself back on track. "Well, if Dad's here, he's never met you before, so he can't say 'I told you so'." Five's sullen expression didn't waver.
"I'm sure he'll find a way."
Without waiting for either of us to speak another word, Five blinked into the entrance and unlocked the door, completely erasing any progress Diego may have made. Truthfully, Diego wasn't really necessary in that part of the equation, he just jumped on solving it first.
"Gotta remember that."
"I'm kind of impressed you managed to forget," I laughed as I strolled past him, entering the nearly pitch-black lobby.
A few chairs and couches stood firm atop the linoleum floor, the cushions somehow completely unwrinkled from the presumed years of people sitting on them. Clusters of dust lined the shades of lamps, dulling the vibrant colors buried deep beneath. A few papers and magazines were scattered on tables, but I couldn't make any of them out with nothing but the moonlight to illuminate the small print.
Taking care not to create a disturbance, I reached over and turned on one of the lamps, but only a few seconds later, the bulb flickered, before completely burning out—a sign it hadn't been changed in ages.
"Shit," I groaned.
"Guess Dad wasn't much for home décor." Just to confirm, Five punched one of the pillows, releasing a fairly large cloud of dust into the already littered air.
"Feels more like a front," he observed.
"A front for what?" While I believed him, I couldn't think of anything else Dad might be using this building for.
"I don't know."
There was only one way to find out… I broke off toward the right door, causing Five to follow, while Diego pressed down on the left handle, revealing a long hallway that seemingly lead to nothing.
"Well, I'll take the left," Diego shrugged, resigning himself. "Yell if you, uh… get in trouble."
"I should be saying that to you," I smirked, causing him to roll his eyes before we headed down opposite ways.
The sides of the hall were littered with doors shut tight, hiding who-knows-what behind them. It was strange there was no door at the end of the hall, and it seemed to just cut off. This entire building had an ominous feeling to it, and at first, I thought it was maybe due to the threat of Dad waiting inside; but now… something was definitely off about this place.
The first couple of doors remained locked, no matter how hard I jiggled the handles. Thankfully, above the second one I tried, there was a deep line, indicating this door had a way to at least peek in. With trace amounts of hesitance, I pushed on it slightly, and when no alarms or warnings went off, I deemed it safe to open it the rest of the way and flip on the light switch.
The moment the bulbs flickered to life, I backed up slightly, staring at the scene in front of us with baffled eyes. Dad had set up furniture to look like a typical family home's living room, complete with a mural of what looked like the view out a window of a nuclear explosion painted across the wall. But what caught my attention were the three mannequins seated on the couches, their faces appearing newly-cleaned.
"What are you up to?" Five questioned, staring at the scene for another moment before he reached around me and flicked the lights back off.
"Okay." I laughed, not out of amusement, but because I was in a slight state of shock. "So clearly, mannequin companionship runs in the family." Five glared up at me, but I just shrugged. "Don't look at me like that. It was such a clear shot."
He elected not to respond, and instead brushed past and wandered further down the hall. As expected, most of the doors remained locked, their secrets just barely alluding our grasp; Five couldn't jump inside because he didn't know what the rooms looked like, meaning we were shit out of luck. I was just about ready to call this a lost cause and turn back, when Five turned the last handle at the end of the hall, and the door swung open. One lamp had been left on, casting large shadows against more mannequins, these ones set up around a table. It almost looked like a studio set, complete with a camera aimed right at the stone-still subjects.
While I got a closer look at the strange setup right in front of us, Five made his way over to a desk just out of view, littered with different file folders and papers. The shuffling and fluttering made for an oddly comforting tune to accompany an otherwise unsettling scenario. Though, admittedly, the attention to detail was impressive. Most interesting, at least to me, was the set of cloth napkins next to the pristine, white mugs, each embroidered with a tiny, red sparrow in the corner.
"Mina." I took quick strides to my brother's side and leaned against the desk. He held some half sheet of paper out to me, which I made sure to read over carefully.
'Mr. Hoyt Hillenkoetter and the Consulate General of Mexico in Dallas cordially invite you to a gala to be hosted at the Mexican Consulate on Monday, 18th of November, 1963 at 5:00 o'clock.
I simpered as my brother folded the invitation and carefully placed it in one of the pockets on his blazer.
"I guess we're going to a gala."
Suddenly, something behind us clattered against metal, subconsciously causing one of my arms to shoot out in front of Five's person. He rolled his eyes at the gesture and pushed the limb down, leading the way as we slowly crept toward the shadows, where the sound had originated. The gentle banging and clanging continued until we got close enough to spot the tall, complex cage just barely hidden from view.
This had to be…
Before I could finish my thought, a chimpanzee, no older than one, timidly emerged from the shadows, looking up at us with big, curious eyes. His steps were timid, afraid to come to close to the strangers he had yet to know.
My hands began to tremble as I looked down at the little baby limping closer. The bitter sting in my chest punched at my lungs, causing my breath to come out strained. I couldn't go near Pogo—there wasn't a scenario I could see where that played out well—but just seeing him alive was enough for now. He wasn't the same Pogo that took care of and checked on us at night when the terrors set in, yet I felt entirely indebted to him.
Unfortunately, Five seemed to completely forget this was a past Pogo, though I completely understood where he was coming from. He slowly crouched down and held his arms out, as though waiting for Pogo to hug him.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "It's all right, little buddy. Pogo, it's good to see you." The closer he got, the more my protective side started to ramp up.
"Five, be careful," I cautioned. He reached on of his arms out a little further, and I stuck out a hand, as though that would somehow stop him. "Five! He doesn't—"
Pogo suddenly swiped his claws, scratching Five's neck, before he let out a loud screech and made a break for one of the windows, jumping through and shattering it without a second thought. This was unraveling alarmingly fast, and if one of us didn't try to go get him back in here, Dad would definitely know someone had been here. Then again, the broken window wasn't exactly something that could easily be covered up.
I turned on my heel and started to make a break for the window, when Five hissed in pain, struggling to stand up out of shock. I couldn't help myself, and although I knew Pogo was getting further by the second, I whipped back around and grabbed onto one of the napkins. There was a pretty fine layer of dust on it, but it would have to do for now. Just as he got back to his feet, I moved Five's hand away from his wound and pressed the cloth against it, hopefully stopping the minimal bleeding.
"Okay, I'm going after Pogo," I declared. "You know what to do if there's trouble." His nod provided me with the little bit of reassurance I needed.
I turned back around and brushed aside the little shards of glass that remained in the sill before using it to vault myself out, landing on what seemed to be a group of storage crates. The fog had increased significantly from when we arrived, making it difficult to see even a few feet in front of my face. I started by checking behind crates and around corners, but to no avail. Hesitantly, I decided to call out for Pogo, hoping that maybe he'd respond to his name and just, for a moment, forget the fact it was coming from an unfamiliar voice.
When I rounded the corner, I found myself in what looked like an underground storage facility. Slats of light shone through crumbling wooden beams, coated in slick, slimy moss and mold. Suffice it to say, I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. I shouted Pogo's name a couple more times, and almost turned around and left, when my eyes fell on a figure collapsed on the ground, gasping and soaking in a pool of their own blood.
I gasped as my eyes adjusted, revealing the fool to be Diego. I could feel panic pushing its way up my throat as I sprinted over to him, tripping over my feet a couple of times, and crouched down, propping him up slightly to keep the blood from flowing up and causing him to choke. He was just barely conscious, enough to keep his eyes open, but not to register I was with him.
"Diego!" I panted, desperately shaking him as though that would somehow help. "Just hold on. You're going to be okay." I tried my best to lift him up, but he proved to be just a bit too heavy, especially in my admittedly frazzled state. "Five!" I screamed, unafraid of whomever might hear. "Five!"
I breathed a tiny sigh of relief as a set of footsteps approached, but when I looked up, that fizzled out into confusion. Lila knelt down across from me, assessing Diego's wound with her eyes before they flashed back up to my face.
"You take his ankles; I've got his shoulders. We'll lift on my count." I remained on the floor, attempting to process everything as she got up to her feet and wrapped her arms around each of Diego's shoulders.
"Lila, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Do you want to make small talk, or do you want to save your brother?" Her sudden hostility caught me off-guard, but she made a good point: every second counted, and if we didn't get back soon, Diego might not make it back.
"Okay, okay." I managed to squat and took him by his ankles, making sure my grip was firm. "
"All right. One… Two… Three."
I violently yanked my arms up, managing to get Diego up off the ground. My limbs began to shake, but I couldn't just give up. Though I felt like he was slipping at several points, we managed to get him into the back of the car without an incident. Once he was laid down across the back seat, I snatched the keys from his pocket, but right as I was about to jump in, I remembered a very important factor in this scenario I'd completely neglected the last few minutes.
"Mina!" Lila shouted, leaning over to stick her head out the broken window—which she'd apparently done herself. "Come on, we have to go!"
"No, I have to go back for Five," I insisted. "I just have to go get him, I'll be right back."
"There's no time!" she shot back. "Your brother will be fine. We've got to focus on saving this one."
Words got caught in my throat for a moment. The thought of leaving my little brother behind and risking losing him yet again…
"Mina, we have to go."
Reluctantly, I slid into the driver's seat and started the car, speeding off the second I could.