Ch. 3
"Shit," I cursed under my breath as I fired my last shot into a zombie's head. I ran down the debris-strewn street, jumping and dodging my way through the infected crowds. I stopped when I came upon the body of what seemed to be an Umbrella employee. He had broken glasses on his crooked nose. It looked like he was dead, but I knew better. His skin was rotted and falling off, and his fingers were twitching in an odd, distorted way. A slow moan escaped his lips, and I realized he was still in his right mind. I grabbed him by the collar of his white, bloodstained shirt, and pulled him into a sitting position. "Can you hear me," I yelled into his grimy face, "Listen to me!" His eyes opened. "Where is your boss," I screamed, "Where is Wesker!" He groaned again, so I shook him. "Answer me," I screeched. He twitched and groaned in my grasp. I dropped him harshly onto the bloody asphalt, and drew my custom built handgun, Black Plague, from it's holster on my hip.
I held it to his head, and stopped when I remembered that I was out of ammo. I replaced my handgun, and took out my gun blade. This made me think of a man I had met a few weeks ago. It had been on the first day of the incident, when I met a tall brunette, his grey-blue eyes twinkled at the thought of his first day on the job at the Raccoon City Police Department. I wished him good luck, and, later on, ran into him again. He told me to get out of the city, and gave me a knife. He apologized for the fact that he could only give me knife, and not a gun, but I thanked him just the same. We went our separate ways, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since then.
I was drawn out of my memories as the man moaned again. I stabbed the blade into his skull all the way to the hilt, then pulled it out. I wiped the blood off on the hem of his red-stained lab coat. After this I stood, and continued on my search for Albert.
Wesker's POV
I awoke to sound of knocking at my door. I rose from my bed and, annoyed, opened my door. A young researcher was standing there with a clipboard in one hand. She blushed a little, reminding me that I had no shirt on. "What is it," I asked in an aggravated tone. She tore her eyes from my abs. The young girl immediately looked at the floor after seeing my devilish eyes. "Speak," I commanded, beginning to regret ever opening the door. These feelings left me with her next statement. "A-a B.O.W has e-e-escaped." I glared at her with my blood-red, glowing eyes, "I will be right there." I closed the door on her fair face, and threw on a shirt, and my sunglasses. I walked out, heading towards my jet Porsche 911. I arrived at the laboratory, to find it in a state of panic. I noticed, though, that one man was standing calmly. "Hello William," I said, approaching him. He turned to me, and held out his right hand, witch I proceeded to shake, "Hello Albert." His voice was the usual, grim, and on the deep side. "Well, what escaped?" I was tired, and aggravated. This, apparently, showed in my voice, and body language.
"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Birkin was a smart man, but he had a very annoying flaw. He has a sense of humor. He could tell I wasn't in the mood, and continued to lead me through the chaos. "As I asked," I insisted, "what escaped?" Birkin grabbed a clipboard from a young man in a lab coat, and skimmed through it. He stopped and handed the clipboard to me. I froze mid-step as I saw the B.O.W report. "Albert?" I could not believe what I was reading! "Albert, are you alright?" I read it over, and over, but it made no sense! "Is this true?" My voice sounded shaky; this unsettled Birkin. "Albert, do feel alright?" I couldn't take my eyes from the name on the page. The report read:
B.O.W REPORT
Name: Kay Lorain Redfield
Age: 14
Blood Type: O
Siblings: Chris, Claire
Virus: GTX-5 Version 6
Subject has become increasingly violent. She refuses to eat or drink, and continues to call out the name "Wesker." We have had her for several months now, and are beginning to recognize some patterns in her tests. Her mental state has come crashing down since we captured her. She is set completely on finding, and destroying a man named Albert Wesker. We
I couldn't read any more of the report. I handed the clipboard back to Birkin. I turned to walk away, "Albert?" I stopped, "Any orders?" My voice was dark, and full of determination. "Find her."