Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters, I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Apologies to all for taking ages to update - I'm just glad you came back and are reading this! I've just been so busy with work and had a few weekends away so not had the time t type this up. I promise to update soon!
Chapter 11 Hell and Consequences
Jill was sitting on the armchair in her room in the medical wing. She was staring across the room towards the single window and out into blackness while nervously tapping her foot. They had been gone for several hours now and she had no idea how the mission was progressing. As always, they maintained radio silence with S.T.A.R.S headquarters while on a mission unless there was an emergency.
Jill shifted awkwardly in her seat. She could feel a large, uncomfortable knot in her stomach. In her head, she was replaying the last conversation she had had with Chris in his office before he left with Claire, Leon, Carlos, Rebecca and Elisabeth a few hours ago.
''You're just going after him, aren't you?'' she asked gently, looking directly into his eyes. Chris was unable to hold her gaze.
''We're going to disable the ship and neutralize any threat until Keller's men get there.'' Chris replied in an emotionless, monotone voice as he looked down at his desk, unconsciously rubbing his index finger along a deep scratch on the surface that looked like it was made with a sharp knife.
To Jill, it had sounded like a rehearsed answer. She knew Chris well enough to know when he wasn't being completely honest with her.
''I know you Chris. Why are you still doing this to yourself?''
Chris stood up sharply, pushing his chair back with such force that it toppled over and crashed against the back wall of his office. He walked towards the single framed picture on the wall near the door. He yanked the picture frame from the wall, and the small metal tack from which it hung was tore from the concrete and flew across the room.
''This is why!'' he replied harshly as he slammed the picture down on his desk in front of Jill so hard that the glass broke. Jill flinched. ''I'm...I'm sorry.'' he said. ''But you know why I have to do this. You were there.''
Jill had looked at the picture many times. It was an old newspaper article about the original S.T.A.R.S - it was their first day on the job in Raccoon City and there had been a media frenzy, driven by a mayor desperate for re-election. It was probably one of the happiest days of her life. There hadn't been many happy days after that - for any of them. Most of the people on the photograph were now dead - killed in the mansion incident up in the Arklay Mountains all those years ago. She missed them too - they were friends as well as colleagues, but to Chris, keeping the image on the wall seemed almost like a symbol of his failures. Jill felt it was there to remind Chris how he had horribly misjudged Albert Wesker and how, as the pointman, he had failed to protect his team. It was nonsense of course. Jill knew that there really was nothing he could have done differently. In fact, if he had done anything differently, he, and countless others, might not be alive today. It was only his excellence as a soldier that had kept him alive this long.
''Are you willing to sacrifice your life, your sister's life, to get to him?''
''No one else can do it.'' he whispered sadly.
''I know how you feel Chris, I really do, but if you go on this mission with the sole intention of getting him, then...''
''Then what?''
''He nearly killed you Chris!'' Jill replied, exasperated. ''He nearly killed Claire. The next time it might not be nearly.''
''I know Jill, but I have to do this...'' His voice cracked. ''I owe it to them.''
''Listen to me. Wesker wouldn't surface unless there was a good reason to do so. Paying off some low level 'informant' doesn't sound like a good enough reason to me.''
Chris scooped up the picture frame and carefully began to remove the broken pieces of glass, putting them in a small waste paper bin sat on the floor next to his desk. He looked at the photo inside the picture frame. ''We're the last ones left Jill - you, me, Rebecca...we're the last ones.''
Jill sighed at the memory. She had been good friends with Chris for well over ten years now, and in that time, she had witnessed practically every facet of his personality - from the gifted pilot and seasoned special forces operative, to the fiercely loyal friend and gentle, protective brother. He was a born leader and a determined, honourable man, but with that came obsession. His obsession with bringing down Umbrella, Wesker and the countless other villainous characters that they had encountered over the years, sometimes made him act irrationally with scant regard for his own well being. Jill knew this obsession of his could be manipulated, which is why she was particularly concerned about this mission and the involvement of Albert Wesker.
With an effort, Jill pushed herself up from the armchair and tentatively walked a few steps across to the window. Her mobility was improving quickly, and the muscle spasms were becoming more infrequent. She pressed her face against the cold glass. It was pitch black outside, but she could just make out a large open space on the grass behind the medical wing that normally acted as a make-shift landing site for the S.T.A.R.S helicopter. She turned to face the bed. She was wide awake - there was no way she could sleep until her friends returned. Safely. She slipped on some trainers and a sweatshirt that were stowed in the drawer by the door, and quietly slipped out of the room into the dark corridor.
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Chris Redfield, Elisabeth Badley and Rebecca Chambers were crouched within waist-high, dead and dying vegetation behind a ramshackle building. Chris's head was poking around the decrepit old building as he surveyed the surroundings.
''Can you see any security?'' Rebecca whispered. The fine cloud of frozen breath in front of her face and patches of frost on the ground were the only indicators of the cold spring temperature.
Chris shook his head. ''I don't see anyone.'' he replied. It looks like the ship's emergency lights are on though. That can't be good.'' he sighed.
Even though he was whispering, Rebecca could detect the anxiety in his voice. She glanced across at Elisabeth who was confidently holding a sub-machine gun identical to her own. The comfortable way she held the weapon made her uneasy. Rebecca was surprised at Chris's decision to arm her, particularly considering the fact that less than a week ago she was locked in the cells and under armed guard. He had told her that she would be more use to them on this mission with a gun, but she didn't really understand why Elisabeth was here this time. She claimed not to have intimate knowledge of the ship, and they hadn't come to retrieve data, so she didn't understand what her role was to be. Leon, Claire and Carlos had similar misgivings, but supposed Chris knew what he was doing so didn't question his decision.
Chris was looking through a pair of night-sight binoculars at the large ship with a blue painted bough moored at the docks less than one hundred metres in front of where they were crouched. The ship had a large mast, upon which was attached an antenna and satellite dish. Even through the pale moonlight, Chris could make out a black figure slowly but assuredly climbing the mast. When the figure reached the antenna, it paused for a while.
''Carlos is planting the EMP device.'' Chris said. ''Not long now.''
Chris then changed his focus to an area on the quayside approximately fifty metres from the ship. He looked on as two black figures emerged from the sea, pulled themselves up onto the wooden pontoon and then darted for cover among a series of homogenous metal storage crates haphazardly piled several meters high on the concrete quayside.
Chris tapped the small radio that was attached to his right ear. ''Leon, Claire, come in.''
There was a brief hiss of radio static, followed by Leon's voice. ''We've planted the charges on the propeller and rudder.'' he paused. ''The charges will detonate in...one minute.''
''I hope you didn't overdo it. We don't want to sink it.''
''Like you said Chris, just a small explosion to incapacitate the ship...'' Claire replied.
''Good. Get out of those scuba suits and make your way to the rendezvous point. Carlos is planting the EMP.''
''Got that. See you soon Chris. Leon out.''
There was another cackle of radio static, this time followed by Carlos's voice.
''Chris, come in.''
''Carlos - is the EMP attached?''
''Yes.'' Carlos paused. ''You have sixty seconds on my mark. Make sure you radio's are off otherwise the electromagnetic pulse is going to fry them.''
''On your mark Carlos.'' Chris replied as he looked at his wrist watch.
''Three, two, one...mark.''
''We'll meet you at the rendezvous point.''
''See you there. Carlos out.''
Chris then turned off his radio. He turned to face Elisabeth. ''Let's go.''
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Excluding a small number of guards who were systematically patrolling the dark corridors, the S.T.A.R.S building seemed deserted. Normally brilliant and white during the day, the corridors were now grey and somewhat unfamiliar to Jill. She made her way to the operations room. She pushed open the door and switched on the light. It took her eyes a moment to readjust to the bright fluorescent strip lights that lit the room.
''You're not alone Chris.''
''Most of the time, I feel like I am.''
Chris's words had stung Jill. For as long as she could remember, she had always been there - both as a friend and ally in the field. But over the years he had become progressively more distant as he became consumed by his desire to find Wesker.
Jill sat down at one of the computer terminals and noticed an open notebook. She immediately recognised Claire's delicate scrawl. At the top of the page was written the words 'Mexico' and 'Methuselah'. The two words were connected by an arrow and a question mark.
''Methuselah.'' she whispered to herself as she began to rock gently backwards and forwards, her hands tightly clasped.
Jill then noticed a number of folders containing print-outs of documents and photographs scattered across the desk. Claire must have been looking through them. Thumbing through the pages, she didn't quite know what she was looking for - maybe something useful, or even familiar. She then came across a photograph of a ship. At first glance, it looked like a drilling vessel. It wasn't a particularly large ship, maybe two or three hundred feet. Underneath the picture, Claire had written 'Methuselah' in capital letters.
Jill stared at the picture. She knew this was where they had gone tonight. It felt familiar. She had no memory of it - but another sense told her she had been onboard. Suddenly she felt queasy. She grabbed onto the side of the desk for stability as the room span around her in a blur. Taking a deep breath, she stood up quickly and tried to make for the door, but her legs gave way and she slid to the floor. The room disappeared into blackness.
Jill was running along a corridor lined by a series of bifurcating metal pipes. The air was stale and smelt of diesel. An alarm had been raised - repetitive and high-pitched - and the corridor was periodically lit by a soft, flashing red light. Almost hidden under the sound of the alarm was the gentle rhythmic hum of an engine.
She was moving quickly. Her breathing was fast and shallow. There were terrifying screams in the distance, followed by the sound of breaking glass and metal grinding against metal. A heavy door was flung open a few metres in front of her, the crash of the door against the metal pipes reverberated along the corridor. Jill darted into a small recess and squeezed into a small space behind the pipes. There was a heavy thud against the pipes. She held her breath and slowly pulled herself forwards, sliding on her knees as there wasn't enough space to stand. There was the broken body of a young-looking man wearing a white lab coat curled on the metal grille floor. As Jill got closer, she peered between the pipes and realised that the front of his white coat was stained red. On the floor below him was a slowly expanding pool of blood that was oozing from a deep gash across his neck. His left arm was bent back upon itself; his eyes were open and glassy, staring straight at her. His lips quivered - he looked like he was trying to speak but no sound escaped. There was another gargled scream, and a body - this time a woman with long black hair - crashed like a rag doll against the metal pipes right in front of Jill. She flinched as her face and chest were covered with a fine mist of the woman's blood.
An amorphous figure slowly emerged through the open metal door, casting a long shadow across the floor. Jill froze, holding her breath and fighting the urge to heave as metallic-tasting blood trickled down her face and into the corners of her mouth. She was now crouched in an uncomfortable position that made her thighs and calves burn. The corridor was now deathly silent except for the gentle, rhythmic dripping of blood through the open spaces in the metal grille floor. The figure in the corridor glided towards the scientists' bodies that were twitching as the last vestiges of life drained away. It crouched, seemingly inspecting them, and for the first time Jill could see discern its features in the spaces between the pipes. She gasped, and then quickly clasped her hand across her mouth. The figure jerked and switched its attention towards Jill's position. A hand covered in bloody residue suddenly shot between the pipes and grabbed Jill's t-shirt. She pulled herself as far back and away from the pipes as she could, although the hand's grip was firm and her t-shirt began to tear. A second hand attacked, and grasping her by her neck, wrenched her forwards. Her head crashed against metal and exploded with pain.
''Jill! Jill Valentine!'' a panic stricken voice was calling.
Jill stirred.
''Are you okay? I was on security detail and came in here to see why the lights were on. I found you like this...you were crying out...I thought someone was being attacked.''
Jill slowly opened her eyes and began to focus on the concerned-looking figure crouched over her. It was a young man (whom she didn't recognise) wearing a black S.T.A.R.S uniform and an extremely concerned look on his face.
She sat up. ''I...I must have passed out for a second.'' she said groggily.
''Are you okay? Do you want me to get a medic?''
Jill stared into space. Then her head snapped up. ''Oh God, there's a weapon on that ship.'' She suddenly grabbed the young man's arm, making him jump. She looked directly at him. ''We have to warn them.''
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''Where's Rebecca?'' Claire asked as she crouched down next to Chris behind some metal crates situated on an area of the quayside that was directly in front of the entrance ramp to the Methuselah. Leon crouched next to her a few moments later.
''She's hanging back for the time being. We need some eyes on the shore. Elisabeth and I are going inside to find Barnes.''
Claire looked questioningly at Chris.
''I know who Joseph Barnes is.'' Elisabeth quickly interjected, sensing Claire's confusion. ''I've...I've worked with him. He's a geneticist too.''
''Claire, Leon, Carlos - I want you to secure the quayside.'' Chris said, checking his weapon. ''Carlos - I hope the ankle's okay now.''
''It's good as new. Rebecca can work wonders.''
Claire looked around her, shaking her head. ''Why was there no response to the EMP, or the charges we put on the propeller and rudder?''
''Whatever happened, it looks like we missed it.'' Leon added. ''It's just like the last mission...''
''Just give us ten minutes to check out the ship, and then you can signal Keller's men. They can take care of the rest.''
''Okay Chris.'' Claire nodded. ''Ten minutes.'' she added quietly. Claire knew he wasn't here on a mission for General Keller. He was looking for Barnes so he could get to Wesker and he didn't want Keller's men to intervene. Joseph Barnes was supposed to be meeting Wesker tonight, although Claire had a feeling that he was already gone.
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''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S. headquarters, come in. Over.''
The communications room in S.T.A.R.S. headquarters was filled with the piercing cackle of radio static.
''SH-1, this is S.T.A.R.S headquarters, come in. Over.''
Still Nothing. More static.
''SH-1...'' Jill's voice was becoming more desperate. ''...this is S.T.A.R.S headquarters, come in God damn it!'' She slammed her fists against the communication console in front of her. ''Is this thing even working anymore?'' she asked angrily as she grabbed and jerked the neck of the microphone.
''Err, Miss Valentine, they've probably used an EMP. It's likely that all their electronics are offline for a while as a precaution. They won't be able to pick up our satellite transmissions.''
Jill turned to face the young man in the S.T.A.R.S uniform. She should have known this. Had she forgotten her training already? ''There must be some way we can contact them.''
The young man just looked at her apologetically, shrugging his shoulders. ''I'm sorry, but there isn't. You just have to wait for them to come back online. Keep trying.''
''They have to know what it is.'' Jill heaved a sigh. ''Before it's too late.''
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Elisabeth was standing on the Methuselah's deserted bridge in front of the navigation post. The bridge was dimly lit by a flashing red emergency light. She flicked a switch, turning on a small green screen.
''The power's still on.'' she said, scrolling through rows of data, her eyes flicking side to side. ''I wonder what tripped the lights.''
Chris was a metre or so behind her, looking at a detailed map of the ship that was attached to the wall. He traced the outline of rooms and corridors with his finger, quickly memorising the layout.
''What are you doing?'' he asked Elisabeth, not shifting his focus from the map.
''I'm just looking at where this ship has been.'' she replied. ''It was moored off Alaska for more than a week.''
''So?''
''They must have re-opened the facility there.''
''What do you mean re-opened? We razed that place to the ground, just before Siberia in 2003.''
''You never found the underground complex.''
Chris turned around slowly to face Elisabeth's back. ''There was no underground complex.'' he said slowly.
Elisabeth then turned to face him. ''Yes, there was. Is. That was where I was going before...''
''Oh, I get it. That's where you were selling your services before you got caught.'' Chris said sarcastically, shaking his head. ''Why haven't you mentioned this before?''
''I know of at five places in North America alone. Some of them are old Umbrella facilities that have gone independent; others...well, you know now that there are worse organisations out there now than Umbrella. Then there's at least the same number in Europe.''
''Why haven't you mentioned them before?'' he repeated.
''Because I knew that isn't what you're really interested in.''
''Yeah?'' Chris smirked. ''Tell me, what am I interested in?''
''You're just looking for him.''
''Him?''
''Wesker.''
Chris took a step forward so that he was standing closer to Elisabeth.
''You don't know me.'' he said slowly. ''You think you do, but you don't know anything about me.''
''I didn't mean anything by that, it's just that...''
Chris cut her off mid-sentence. ''Let's go. There's a stair just behind the bridge - it should get us to the lower levels. There's a large room immediately below us - I'm guessing this is the main lab. We'll start our search there. Follow me.''
Chris and Elisabeth had descended the metal stair from the bridge and found themselves within a long, dark corridor. Like the ship's bridge, it too was dimly lit by periodically flashing red lights situated under the metal grille floor. The walls were lined with metal pipes, some of which were steaming hot.
''It looks like this is the lab.'' Elisabeth whispered while gesturing towards a heavy metal door on the right hand side of the corridor.
Chris entered the room first, closely followed by Elisabeth. A waist-high bench ran along the centre of the room which was dimly lit by a number of refrigeration units on the far wall. Hundreds of small vials of red and blue liquid were stacked within the fridges.
Open folders and notebooks were scattered across the bench next to a laptop with a smashed screen. A number of the pages were creased or torn, and paragraphs had been highlighted or underlined with yellow fluorescent ink.
Elisabeth marched across to the bench. ''It looks like they were trying to replicate my research.'' she said a minute later, after skimming through some of the pages. ''But they couldn't get it quite right.'' she added, almost with an arrogant smirk.
''Yeah? So what's all this?'' Chris replied, gesturing to the hundreds of vials linearly aligned in the fridges.
''Look...'' Elisabeth said pointing to the far end of the lab where a narrow wooden door appeared to lead into another room.
Chris's eyes followed Elisabeth's pointing finger.
''Wait here.'' he ordered as he walked towards the door. He reached for the handle while readying his weapon. He pushed open the door, but it would only open a little way.
''There's something blocking the door...'' he said as he began to push harder. Eventually whatever was jamming the door appeared to give way enough for Chris to be able to squeeze through the gap.
It was a small office, perhaps only a couple of metres across. There was a small wooden desk, upon which was situated a personal computer. Next to the computer was a silver-framed photograph of a young man and woman. In between them was the smiling face of a young child - a girl with long blond hair arranged in ringlets. Chris looked down. The figure of the man in the photograph was slumped against the wall. It was his legs that had prevented Chris from opening the door. He knelt down next to the body.
''I told you to wait in there.'' Chris said without shifting his focus from the man. Elisabeth had squeezed through the gap and was now standing behind Chris.
She shrugged. ''Is he dead?''
''His neck's severely bruised. It looks like he was strangled.'' Chris said while reaching forward to feel the man's pulse. Suddenly the man's arms sprung up and grabbed Chris's wrists. The man's eyes, now red from the burst blood vessels, were wide open. Chris yelped with shock and lurched backwards, but the man clung on, and ended up lying on top of him.
''Don't...let...take...her.'' the man said, foaming at the mouth, his face inches from Chris's.
Chris pushed the man off him. He scurried backwards and pushed himself to his feet.
''Don't...let...take...her...don't...trust.'' the man repeated before he emitted a deep sigh and his body went limp.
''Chris - that's Joseph Barnes.''
Chris felt for a pulse. ''Dammit.'' Chris muttered. ''What was he talking about? Don't let him take who? Is he talking about Wesker?''
Chris grabbed the dead man's shirt collar and pulled him a few inches off the ground. ''Who are you talking about? Wesker? Did you mean Wesker? Answer me!'' he demanded as he shook the man's inert body.
Elisabeth tapped Chris's shoulder.
''Stop.'' she whispered. ''Listen.''
Chris looked at her quizzically. ''What?''
Elisabeth put her finger to her lips. ''Shhhh.'' she closed her eyes and slowly tilted her head. ''I can hear something.''
Chris tilted his head. Above the gentle hum of the engine, he could hear a sound too. ''It sounds like someone...crying.''
She nodded. ''This way.'' she pointed to the wall. ''I think it's coming from the next room.''
''Stay behind me.'' Chris whispered, as he released Joseph Barnes's body which then hit the floor with a thump. They walked back through the lab and out into the corridor. The metal grille beneath their feet seemed to become progressively softer and slightly sticky. Even through the red tinged emergency light, Chris could see a clear trail of blood on the floor that led into the next room just ahead of them. He turned to get Elisabeth's attention and pointed to the floor with his free hand. She followed his fingers, her eyes widening.
They were suddenly hit by a strong, putrid smell. Chris swallowed hard and Elisabeth gagged as she put her hand to her mouth. She knew that smell now. She knew what lay ahead of them.
Slowly, they edged carefully forwards along the blood trail and into the room. The emergency lights only lit the main corridors, so it was too dark to see anything inside. Chris reached for his flashlight and pointed it into the darkness. The diffuse circle of light emanating from the flashlight swept across the blackness, partially illuminating what appeared to be a recreation room. On one wall was a darts board. On the back wall was a shelving unit with stacks of books, magazines and dvd's. Furniture was overturned, broken and displaced - it looked like there had been a fight.
Chris suddenly detected a flicker of movement in the corner of his left eye. He pointed the flashlight towards a table in the left corner of the room. Curled up under the table was the small shivering figure of a child with it's head buried in it's hands. It appeared to be a girl with matted, long blond hair.
Elisabeth slowly approached the girl. As she got closer to the table, she crouched.
''Hey.'' she said gently, as she removed her finger from the trigger of her weapon and pushed it out of sight behind her back. ''It's okay, everything's going to be alright. We're going to get you out of here.'' she said softly, holding up her hands for the child to see.
The child stopped whimpering at the sound of Elisabeth's voice. She walked closer, slowly and deliberately, trying not to slip on the wet surface. It was then that she noticed the girl's clothes were covered with blood.
''Are you hurt? Did somebody hurt you?''
Elisabeth was within a metre of the child when she paused. Slowly, the girl's head moved upwards and turned slightly to face to Elisabeth. Her face looked wrong. Her alabaster skin was crossed by numerous blue, pulsating veins. Her white lips were stained red. The girl's eyes snapped open - they were glowing red. Her face seemed to contort into an evil cherubic smile. She tensed and then sprung forwards towards Elisabeth, screaming manically, her talon-like hands stretched out in front of her. Elisabeth dived, but she felt something scrape her arm. She cried out while rolling onto her side, clutching her shoulder.
The girl sprang to her feet and stared at Chris. She hissed.
''Stop!'' Chris shouted as he realised he wasn't looking into the face of a child. It was a monster. He fired, and the girl instantly fell to the ground.
''Elisabeth!'' he shouted, still pointing his weapon at the child who was lying face down in a growing pool of her own blood. ''Are you okay?''
''I'm fine.'' she grunted through gritted teeth, holding her upper arm that was now bleeding profusely.
''Let me look at that.'' he said, moving across to Elisabeth.
''Chris! She...it's gone!''
Chris spun around to see the place where the child's body had lay moments before. All that remained was a large pool of semi-coagulated blood.
''Dammit!'' he spat.
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Leon was slowly walking along the starboard side of the ship, his sub-machine gun poised. He casually glanced across to the port side where he caught a glimpse of Claire moving nimble and cat-like between a number of overturned cargo boxes. At that exact same moment, she looked across at Leon. As their eyes met, she looked away quickly and then purposefully moved out of sight. Leon smirked and shook his head.
''You're as complicated as your brother.'' he thought aloud.
It was ominously quiet. Even for a port many miles outside of any population centre, it was too quiet. There was no sign of the ship's crew - although a half eaten sandwich and tepid cup of coffee resting on a ledge indicated a recent human presence.
As Leon progressed, something golden caught his eye beneath one of the lifeboats. One of the metal pulley's that secured it had been released and the front of the boat, now splintered and broken, was lying up-ended on the deck. Leon reached forwards and picked up what appeared to be a gold watch. He turned it over in his hand and noticed traces of blood along the worn leather strap. Then he looked forwards to the broken end of the lifeboat and noted a small but steadily growing pool of blood. Warily, he looked all around him and rose to his feet. He then pushed back the heavy tarpaulin that partially covered the top of the lifeboat.
''Oh God.'' he whispered as he looked down and closed his eyes. ''Claire...'' he said as he tapped his earpiece. ''Be careful. There's someone...something...here.''
''What is it?'' Claire replied.
''I've just found the crew. Well, parts of them anyway.''
''Great.'' Claire replied. ''I thought this was going to be...''
''Claire - what is it? Claire?''
''We've got company. By the coastguard post. There's a boat.''
Leon looked across the ship's stern in the distance - perhaps less than fifty metres - where he could discern a number of black figures disembarking a speedboat that was partially hidden by the concrete coastguard building on the quayside. The black figures proceeded to run in the direction of the ship.
''I see them. It looks like there are at least ten...''
''I didn't hear the boat...we should have heard it.''
''We weren't supposed to Claire. This was a trap.''
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''Are you okay?'' Chris asked Elisabeth who was struggling, one-handed, to wrap a bandage around the open wound on her arm. ''Let me finish that.'' he said, as he took the bandage from her hand and pulled it tight, jolting her arm.
Elisabeth just stared straight ahead. ''That was a child. It was just a child.''
''You seem surprised.''
''I know I shouldn't be, but... but it's a child for Christ's sake!''
Chris tapped his radio.
''Leon, Claire. Come in.''
''Chris...'' It was Claire. Her voice was muffled, drowned out by the sound of gunfire. ''We're taking fire...can't talk...need your help...''
''Claire, I need you to listen to me. There's something coming your way. It looks like a girl, a young girl.''
''There's a girl?'' Claire's voice was barely audible. Chris could hear Leon shouting in the background.
''No! It's a bioweapon. It looks like a girl! Claire! Can you read me?''
''Chris...can't hear you...help...''
Claire was gone. Chris reached out his arm towards Elisabeth who then grabbed his hand.
''We've got to go. Right now.'' he ordered as he pulled her to her feet.
Elisabeth nodded. Chris led the way as they ran out of the recreation room and back along the corridor.
''I don't get this.'' Elisabeth began. ''I mean, why would they show up now?''
They stopped as they reached the metal stair that led to the bridge. As Chris began to climb the stair, he half turned and looked down to face Elisabeth who was just a few steps below him, reaching for the handrail. ''I knew it was too qui...''
Chris didn't finish his sentence. He felt a sharp blow to the front of his head. He reached out desperately to the handrail for support as he tumbled backwards, almost in slow motion, smashing into Elisabeth on the way down. When he regained his senses, he was lying at the bottom of the stair on the hard metallic floor, looking upward. Everything was out of focus. His ears were ringing.
''Chris Redfield.'' A disembodied voice said slowly and calmly. ''So nice to see you again.''