A fourth part. Thanks so much for all the reviews! You guys are awesome.
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And that's the end of the road. Chris typed out, staring at the computer monitor. Paved with bodies and decorated with tragedy. Raccoon City, Harvardville Airport, Kijuju, they all stand silently and warn us of the resident evil ever present in the heart of mankind. Chris paused, wondering how to continue. Through the two large windows a few feet off, the light sprinkling of rain pattered on, breathing life into the grass and trees. He drummed his fingertips on the keyboard, trying to think, but the sound of the door creaking open made him look away from the half-finished paragraph.
"Daddy?" The little girl said, walking hesitantly into the room. Chris smiled broadly.
"How are ya, pumpkin?" He asked, hugging her. "Have a good nap?" Nap always followed the trio's Saturday bike ride around the neighborhood. Unlike the two adults, Heather did not have a three-mile daily jog during the weekdays.
She nodded. "Mommy made hot cocoa." She said happily. Chris teasingly brushed a tell-tale stain from the corner of the child's mouth.
"I can see that." He laughed. "Was it good?"
"Mommy makes it real good." The five-year old said seriously. "She puts lots of powder in." Footsteps could be heard in the little hallway.
"And that's the secret, you know." Jill said, walking into the study. "Lots of powder." She glanced at the screen. "Finishing up?"
"Pretty close to it." Chris said. Jill crouched slightly, one arm on his shoulder, skimming over what he had written. "Final chapter, first draft, that is." He added.
"What a way to end your part." She said, smirking. "On a real high note, I can see." Chris sighed as she opened the manila envelope and looked over the cover and back designs again.
S.T.A.R.S.; Untold Stories
was written across the middle, surrounded by a background of news clippings, with a Beretta 9mm and several spare magazines lying on top. She flipped over to the back's design. The interest catcher was simple and to the point, with a background almost identical to the cover.
The Raccoon City Incident and the demise of the Umbrella Corporation, as told by the four surviving members of the cities' Special Tactics and Rescue Squad.
"I'm working on it." Chris said. He looked at his daughter desperately, feigning a need for support. "Heather, tell Mommy I'm working on it."
"Daddy's working on it." Heather repeated defensively to Jill, who was putting the pictures back.
"I know." Jill said playfully. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll let you finish in peace."
"It shouldn't take long." He promised.
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Half an hour later…
"Little pig, little pig, let me in, cried the big bad wolf." The little girl read slowly, word by word. Instead of switching the page, she studied the picture intently for several moments.
"Think the pig will let him in?" Jill asked, shifting slightly on the couch. Heather shook her head. "Me neither." Jill agreed. "What would you do?"
"Get one of Daddy's guns." She said matter-of-factly. "And shoot through the door. Uncle Barry said that's what you do when a bad guy is trying to get in."
"Yeah, Uncle Barry would say that." Jill said reflectively, recalling how well the former teammate had blown away the zombie-dogs in those woods, years before. "Not a bad idea, either."
"Just make sure it is a bad guy before you do that." Chris interjected, rounding the corner.
"Finally decided to join us?" Jill teased. "I almost doubted you'd be in time."
"Can't miss out on what happens to the three little pigs." Chris smiled. "Not to mention the big bad wolf." His eyes flickered over the two again. "I swear, she looks more like you every day."
"Yep." Jill said. "You're growing up so fast." She said, running a hand through the girl's shoulder length brown hair. Heather batted her hand away.
"I'm too big for that." She protested, making her parents laugh.
"Read some more." Jill nudged her. "Show Daddy how good you're getting." The girl continued, sitting up a little straighter as though she was at a talent show.
"The little pig said, 'Not by the hair of my chinny-chin chin!' So the big bad wolf huffed, and he puffed, but could not blow the house down." Heather read carefully. She flipped the page. "So he climbed up on the roof and said, 'If they won't open the door, I'll go down the chimney.' So he slid down…" She turned the page again. "And went right into a big pot! The little pig put the lid on, and all three lived happily every after, safe in the brick house."
"Whoa." Chris said. "He ended up boiled in a pot." Heather stared at the picture.
"Do bad guys really get boiled up like that?" She asked suspiciously. "Or did they make that up?"
"Some bad guys do end up getting roasted." Jill said. "But that's a story for when you're older."
"Is it scary?" Heather asked. Jill nodded. "I don't get scared. You can tell me."
"It scared me." Chris said seriously, looking her in the eyes. "And I'm big and tough." She gave him a pleading look. "Uh-ah. We'll tell you all about it when you're older. Much older."
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Later that night…
Sometimes I look back, and wonder if it was worth it. If I could mail myself a letter before the whole thing happened and tell my younger self to move to another state, would I? The words read. Jill scrolled down a little more, the glow of the screen reflecting off her face. If I could have avoided the whole nightmare and left the war to someone else... If I was given a choice, the opportunity to change my life, where would I be today?
Right here.
Sometimes fires happen in people's lives. It was terrifying, I admit… but when the last flames died out, what I had left was worth far more than everything I'd lost. Once the petty trinkets— the house, the car, the career—are gone, it's easier to see what has true value. A smile flickered across her face as she quietly turned the computer off.
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Jill leaned slightly over the stairway railing, looking over into the next room. Chris was sitting on a stool at the bar, working on some paperwork, the few lights still on casting a warm glow. She strode over, her bare feet soundless on the tile floor.
"Hey." Jill said quietly, putting her arms around his neck, her clasped hands coming to a rest just below his collarbones.
"How are ya?" He said, glancing up from the sheet. She relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I'm good." She said. "What're you working on?"
"Concealed carry permit renewal." He said, lifting it up slightly so she could see the tiny print. "I'm about halfway done." In the safe, with all their other important documents, was an identical sheet, except with her information on it instead of his. Neither of them ever went out unarmed.
"Could you finish it tomorrow?" She whispered in his ear. He didn't reply for a moment, so she clarified. "I checked Heather, she's sound asleep… so I was thinking we could do something fun."
"What did you have in mind?" Chris asked, tossing the paper to the other side of the bar and turning around. Her mouth met his for several long seconds, and his hands suddenly found their way to her side and the back of her head.
"Nothing in particular." She said, breathing heavily, their faces inches apart. "But I'm pretty sure we'll think of something."
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I hope you all enjoyed. Please leave a review; I notice, read, and appreciate every single one. If you guys have any suggestions for a fifth part…
The big bad wolf… I saw one children's version where the big bad wolf ate two of the three pigs and ended up being boiled in a pot when he climbed down the chimney of the third's. No kidding. That, and with what Wesker said about S.T.A.R.S. in the basement labs of the mansion… it fit, eerily so.