Special Thanks to my Beta Reader: Special Agent FUNK


Wesker's New Life

Episode Three: Wesker: Fugitive!


Wesker entered the alleyway and the first thing he did was grab D by the throat.

"YOU STUPID BASTARD I'LL KILL YOU."

D fell to his knees and his eyes bulged in his head. Sweat formed on his forehead and Wesker saw the color in his face turn a shade of blue. Very soon D would be dead.

D shut his eyes when the police siren blared near by. The doors of the car were slammed shut and Wesker heard shuffling feet.

"FREEZE!" A pair of police officers rushed into the alleyway and trained their weapons on Wesker. "LET HIM GO!"

Wesker looked in their direction and simply sneered.

"All right, sure." Wesker let go of D's throat. D gasped, coughed and rubbed his throat.

"STEP AWAY, PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" The officer on the right shouted.

"You mean like this?" Wesker raised his hands above his head, but curled them into fists.

"Open your hands, right now!" The officer on the left pulled back the hammer on the gun. "I wont hesitate to shoot!"

Wesker laughed, but then quickly changed his expression to 'you're gonna die' mode. "D, NOW!"

D leapt from the ground without warning, completely uninjured. He ducked, grabbed Wesker by his ankles and catapulted him straight into the two police officers.

POW! Wesker zipped through the air like a blond missile. His raised fists collided into the faces of the officers with the force of a car crash and they both crumpled to the ground instantly. Wesker then tucked his body into his lower half and executed a front flip before landing on his feet.

D raised a fist in the air and shouted in triumph. "D AND WESKER ARE THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!"

Wesker clapped his hands together and adjusted his shirt before turning back towards D. "You see? I told you it would work."

D's mood evened out and he rubbed at his throat. "Wesker has a powerful grip. Very convincing! D thought for a minute he was going to die D:"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that, D." Wesker said. "If I was going to kill you I wouldn't give you the time to think about it."

D did not look pleased. "D thinks Wesker needs to work on his joke telling."

Wesker shrugged. "Everyone's a critic."

Five minutes later Wesker emerged from the alley. He had changed into the uniform of one of the unfortunate officers. He patted down the officer's hat before resting it snugly over his hair.

"I have to say, I don't look half bad." He looked down at the badge he had stolen, the name read Johnson. "Shame about the name, though."

"Wesker…!" D called from the alley way. His voice seemed stressed.

Wesker rolled his eyes. "What is it now?"

D stumbled out of the alley almost completely naked. Wesker groaned and averted his eyes, but not before he caught sight of the torn slacks he was wearing.

"The cop's uniform Wesker… it doesn't fit D. ): "

"Damn it." Wesker turned around. "Curse you and your girth."

Wesker's eyes caught sight of the police car. An idea came to him.

"D, put your prison clothes back on." He motioned towards the vehicle. "I'm going to start the car."


D grunted when Wesker shoved him in the back seat of the cop car.

"Wesker! I don't want to be the prisoner!" D clenched his fists. His hands bound by a pair of handcuffs Wesker had taken from Johnson.

"Well D, what alternative do you suggest? I can't very well have a man fitting your description in prison clothes riding shotgun with me in a police uniform!"

"D can take his prison clothes off!"

"I can't very well have a NAKED MAN riding shotgun with me, period!"

"Fine." D grumbled. "But D don't like it."

Wesker didn't seem to care. "I could leave you here, if you like."

D didn't say anything. Wesker took this as compliance and shut the door. He opened the trunk and put his electric guitar inside. He shut it and entered the car on the driver's side.

Honestly, Wesker was surprised they even made it this far without much trouble. Wesker hadn't taken his shot of the experimental virus in weeks. The decline in his powers was a slow, but noticeable one. He wasn't as strong, or as fast as he was, even compared to how he felt in prison. He found himself growing tired and weak as they walked to the city. Even worse, he could almost feel his mental abilities beginning to wane. It took him longer than it should to plan their next move, and worst of all: Wesker was running out of funny things to say.

Things looked grim indeed. Still, at least they had disguises and a vehicle. The only thing left would be to head into the desert.

A voice then crackled over the police radio.

"Office Johnson, Officer Spring come in, over."

Wesker's eyes widened and glanced over at the radio. D shifted in the back seat which caused the whole vehicle to rock somewhat.

"Answer it, Wesker. Answer it!"

"I can't! They'll know something is up."

"Officer Johnson, Officer Spring, is something wrong? Were they the escapees? I'm going to dispatch cars to you, over."

Wesker jumped and reached for the radio. He cleared his throat and tried to disguise his voice. He dropped his accent and sounded distinctly American. "Johnson here. False alarm, over."

Only silence could be heard the other end. Wesker knew there was a tracking device in the car. If they suspected something they would have police on them in minutes. At this point Wesker couldn't afford another set back. His time was running out.

Finally the radio crackled to life. "Johnson you sound funny. Is Spring with you? Over."

Wesker began to sweat. "He's… er.. Getting donuts. Over."

Wesker put a hand to his face. Of all the moronic things to say!

D spoke up in the backseat. "D's hungry."

Wesker hushed him and glanced back over at the radio. In the quiet Wesker could hear his own stomach growl. He hadn't eaten in hours. Wesker didn't eat to survive, he did so out of pleasure. However, with his body reverting back to it's normal (and dead) state food was becoming a necessity. He would have to eat before they left for the desert. If he managed to fool the dispatch, that is.

The dispatch's voice buzzed over the radio and Wesker faced it with anticipation. "Oh Spring! That card! Him and his donuts… So you sure you guys are fine? Over."

Wesker exhaled a huge sigh of relief. He laughed and pressed down the button on the radio. He was so excited he forgot to drop his accent. "Yes. Looks like our problems have now been… dispatched."

Wesker put the radio on the hook, grinned and put his hands on the wheel. He blinked once and then quickly snatched the radio again and spoke in his American accent.

"Ah, uhm… OVER."

He switched the radio off and started the car. He threw the sirens on and peeled off towards the nearest diner.

"D thinks they bought it, Wesker."

"For my sake, I hope you're right for once." Wesker shook his head and scanned the buildings for a place to eat.

Meanwhile the dispatch looked at her radio with a puzzled look on her face. She shook her head and picked up the receiver.

"Can I get a patrol to check up on car Oh-Four-Two? I think Officer Johnson and Officer Spring may be in trouble. Over."

Wesker turned the wheel of the car, switched off the siren and pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

"Yay, food!" D reached for the door handle with both hands before Wesker held up his hand.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Wesker said. He leaned over and to rummage through the glove compartment.

"What? ): "

"Well it wouldn't look proper if I just waltzed into a diner and had lunch with an convict in tow, would it?"

Wesker's eyes caught something and he couldn't help but smile. He pulled the object out of the glove compartment just as D made his argument.

"D thinks it wouldn't look proper if a police officer went to lunch and left his convict alone in the car."

Wesker unfolded the aviator sunglasses he found in the glove compartment and put them on. He repositioned the rear-view mirror and sneered at his reflection. He might be weaker than he was used to, but at least Wesker was beginning to look like his old self again.

"Fine, you win." Wesker was in too good a mood to argue with the oaf. "We wont be sticking around for long, anyway."

The front door to the Moonlight Diner swung open and the wind chimes clattered a short song in response. All eyes were on Wesker and D as they entered.

Wesker cleared his throat and spoke in his best southern accent. "Don't mind us folks, we wont be causing any trouble."

He then jabbed D in the ribs with his elbow. "Will we, con?"

D shook his head vehemently.

A waitress rushed up to Wesker and looked concerned. "Ah, officer, is something the matter?" She caught sight of D. "Why…?"

Wesker cleared his throat again. He adjusted his belt and flashed the police badge to the waitress nonchalantly. "Nothing to worry about, miss. I ran into a bit of car trouble and I'm having the boys pick me an' ol' sasquatch up here. In the mean time, I wonder if you might oblige us with something to eat?"

The waitress seemed puzzled. "You and… him?"

Wesker shrugged and did his best to sound like he walked straight out of the Andy Griffith Show. "Sure, I'm a nice guy. I'm not so rude as to eat in front of a man and not offer him something as well. If its okay with you, that is, miss. I'll be paying so don't you worry none."

The waitress shrugged. "Ah.. Okay. Have a seat in the booth, do you know what you want?"

Wesker grinned. "Two cheeseburgers and two orders of French fries, ma'am. Thank ya kindly."

Wesker and D sat across from one another in the booth. The seats had cheap, red plastic cushions and a tiny jukebox that hid behind the condiments. The table top was slightly sticky and Wesker made a noise in disgust when his arms came in contact with it.

"Oooh. They have Jingle, Jangle, Jingle! :D" Was the first thing D said upon seeing the song selection on the juke box. He then fiddled with the dial like a restless five year old.

Wesker shook his head. He was glad they didn't have any money. "Just… sit still, D. People are staring."

D turned to look at Wesker. He leaned in and spoke low so only they could hear. "D didn't know Wesker was so good at fooling people. It was kind of you to offer to pay for D's lunch… D has no money ):"

Wesker shook his head. "You fool, we aren't going to pay."

D leaned back and gasped. His eyes widened. "But that's against the law!"

"Nothing gets past you, does it?"

D changed the subject. "Where do we go from here? What are you going to do with that police car, Wesker?"

Wesker shrugged. He didn't see the harm in letting D know, especially since they were traveling together now. "After we eat we're going to head into the desert. There's an old, hidden Umbrella research facility there."

"Umbrella?" D titled his head. "Didn't they make those zombies? Those are bad people, Wesker. Zombies eat people."

It was Wesker's turn to tilt his head. "You eat people."

Something shone in D's eyes. "I ate one man. And I made sure he was dead before I did it."

"Okay… back on topic." Wesker cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the table. "I need to head to this facility because they might still have a sample of… some medicine I need."

D reverted back to his normal self. "Medicine? For what?"

"For me."

"D: Wesker's sick?"

"No!" Wesker waved the thought away and lied, more to himself than to D. "I'm fine. I need it just in case."

"D thought Umbrella was gone. Why would Wesker's medicine be in an empty place?"

"Empty?" Wesker raised an eyebrow. "Who said the facility was empty?"

Wesker slipped back into his southern drawl when he saw the waitress arrive with their lunch.

"Ay, con, look sharp. The miss is bringing us our meal!"

D sat back in his chair and gave the waitress a bright smile. The waitress let out a nervous laugh and slowly maneuvered past him.

"Here you go gentlemen."

Wesker practically snatched the cheeseburger off his plate and took a big bite of it.

"How is the cheeseburger, officer?"

Wesker leaned back and a large smirk crossed his face. "So good."

"I'm glad you like it." The waitress said and made her way to another table, but not before she shot D an uneasy look.

Wesker didn't believe in heaven, but he assumed if it did exist this is what it would taste like.

D and Wesker spent the next few minutes devouring their food. They barely fit in the time to breathe in between bites. Wesker was unnaturally ravenous. He hoped the food would return some of the strength he lost, at least temporarily.

Wesker was almost finished eating when the police sirens blared through the diner. Red and blue lights flashed through the windows as the sound of screeching tires and slamming doors joined the noise of the sirens.

Wesker remained still. He held the last, tiny piece of cheeseburger between his index and thumb. D's plate was completely clean. The waitress approached them just then.

"Officer, I think they're here to pick you up."

A loud voice could be heard from the outside, amplified by a megaphone. "You two, come out with your hands up!"

Wesker sighed, popped the last bit of cheeseburger into his mouth, reached for his gun with the other hand, stood and wrapped his arm around the waitress' neck and held the pistol against her head all in one deft movement. D stood up and moved behind Wesker as the diner patrons all gasped in shock.

Wesker shouted in between bites of his burger. "NO BODY MOVE OR I WILL KILL THE WOMAN."

"It's not polite to speak with your mouth full, Wesker."

"Oh shut up, D." Wesker barked back at him.

Wesker squinted when he saw the gathering of police officers outside. Cop cars were blocking the street and it was safe to say they would be securing the back door, too. Wesker saw the officer who held the megaphone, and then noticed someone take it out of his hands. A woman.

"WESKER, IF YOU DON'T LET HER GO I WILL GO IN THERE AND KILL YOU MYSELF."

It was Jill Valentine and judging by her voice, she was pissed.

Wesker smiled. "Never a dull moment."


Next Time on Wesker's New Life:

Wesker's New Love

There was a stretch of awkward silence between the two. Wesker cleared his throat and sang softly to Kim.

"I guess you're just what I needed." He began.

In the background D chimed in. "Just what he needed! :D!"

"I needed someone to BLEED!" Wesker then abruptly stopped his singing.

"Wow, poor choice in song. I'm sorry, Kim."

Kim grimaced and motioned to the gun Wesker held against her head. "You can pull that trigger now. I think I'm ready to die."


TO BE CONTINUED!