Resident Evil: Hallelujah
Chapter Nine: Cold and Broken
Chris pushes Jill back toward Leon, "So, go!"
The door slams shut and the tears building up immediately stop, the blonde quickly swiping them from her eyes, checking her weapon, and eyeing Leon's injuries with precision and practiced skill. After checking all the boxes and making sure her friend will actually make it to see the end of this, they start their walk down the hallway in silence, Jill's only sudden movements being small jumps as the sounds of a door bashing in grow farther and farther away.
A hand on her arm and a soft voice, "He'll make it, that man is too stubborn to die."
"I know, Leon… I just know that everytime he and I are separated, a piece of us never returns…" A sound at the end of the hallway has her jogging until she realizes Leon isn't up to that exact motion at the moment.
She wraps an arm around his waist to help support and Leon does the gentlemanly thing by not pushing all of his weight on her, "Jesus, Leon, you really gave it your all, didn't you?"
"Yeah," the word is grunted out as they finally start finding a rhythm to their walk. "It's my nightmare, my mistake, I got to end it, right?"
"You don't need to do it alone," an eyebrow is raised as he taps his ear and shakes his head. "Oh, it's Claire, isn't it? Figured she'd be the one to help you."
He nods and smiles a bit, "Nothing, Jill's just asking who I have in my head."
A smile crosses her lips, happy that Leon's finally starting to come around, but a little sad that it's taken him this long to finally come out from the darkness that bioterror shrouds you in. Things were only supposed to get better after Raccoon City, but life was just full of gut punches for all of them. She finally got to see just how dark it got when Chris found out Claire was shot, especially as the doctor kept using phrases like 'touch and go' and 'severe injuries'. If he was that torn up when Jill was 'dead', she's surprised Chris was able to smile again at all. She will always have something special with Chris, something she can't have with anyone else, but life never truly allowed them to be more than partners. She knows they both want it, but maybe it's too late for them, but it's definitely not too late for Leon and Claire.
"What is it?" Jill stops the second she feels the shift in the room, one of those gifts from Wesker, and she drops Leon against the wall.
She turns slowly, hand on the grip of her handgun, "Go, Leon. I'll hold them off."
He tries to ask her to clarify, but the wall begins to part and three men clad in body armor and balaclavas step out, "Hand Leon over to us."
"About that…" She stretches her legs and leans down to the tile floor, where she quickly scrawls a black line. "That's just not going to happen."
Leon holds up his handgun, but Jill knocks it down and growls out the order, "Go. Now."
"Agent Valentine, we will take you down if we need to."
Oh that's a cute joke and she spits back as she laughs, "B.S.A.A. and Blue Umbrella have one thing in common. I trained all of you. Sure, there might be a few who slipped by when I was 'dead', but there isn't a single person who can beat me in either organization."
Jill feels a small weight in her back pocket and mentally checks a note to yell at Leon later for touching her ass, but the soldier in front of her pulling out a rather large combat knife grabs her attention, "You won't cross this line, boys."
Two more knives are ripped from their sheathes and Jill really wishes she packed a second one as she holds up her knife and flips her gun in her hand to use as knuckles if need-be. She watches their feet, expecting two of them to move in first, and they do, the outside pair moving in and one slashes up while the other slashes down. Jill steps forward and uses the gun to block the arm swinging down while she steps on the hand swinging up. An arm comes up to pull her down, but she just jams her knife into the appendage and twists, disarming the man coming from below and doing some serious damage to the one she stabbed. Jill slides back, swipes the blood from her blade, and reaffirms her stance, eyes locked on the man in the back. The soldier on the right, the one she cut, steps back, quickly pulling a bandage from his pack and covering the wound.
"Just as good as I remember," curious thing for their little leader to say, but she just tilts her head and prepares to step into the mix.
The door behind her finally closes and with a sigh of relief now that Leon's not in harm's way, she flips the knife underhanded and starts to get serious. One step in from their leader and Jill swipes down, trying to stab the leg, but he moves it out the way and counters with a nice backhand to the left side of her face. It doesn't knock her off balance, but it does piss her off a bit that he's choosing to play nice. Well, she's going to show him she isn't someone that needs kids' gloves. Jill pulls back, spins the handgun in her right hand, and drives it forward, but also jams her knife into his leg. The knife forces him to drop down in perfect line with her punch, and Jill smiles at the sickening crack that fills the hallway as their little leader drops to the floor, probably dead.
"Who's next?" There's only one left and Jill frowns as he quickly pulls out his radio and calls in more help. "How long are they gonna take? Two, three minutes? Think you can take me out and cross that line before they get here?"
This soldier peels off his mask and Jill nods slowly, recognizing the man, "Kurt Feathers, I heard you jumped to Blue… Ready?"
He nods and charges at Jill, the knife slashing through the air wildly, obviously trying to distract her. Something flashes in her mind and her right leg comes up automatically, her knee driving into the wrist pulling the gun from its holster. The weapon is released and clatters to the floor, Jill still finding herself surprised at her reflexes, but she capitalizes on his confusion and she pulls him down, wraps her left leg around his neck, pulls him even further down into a roll, and holds his left arm in that horrible position while she applies pressure. He concedes, dropping the knife, but he does manage to shake her a bit and wrap an arm around her leg, using all his strength to lift her up.
If he wasn't actively trying to kill her, Jill might actually feel a bit of pride in her once star pupil. Can't get soft now, Valentine.
He works to drop backwards, but Jill quickly snakes around his body and tightly wraps her legs around his waist, the knife held high and aimed right for his jugular, but he shifts, spinning and slamming her against the wall. It takes all her will to not drop the knife as he pulls back and slams again, Jill calling out in pain as the drywall begins to crack and shatter. She applies more pressure at his waist and wraps a hand around his neck before slamming her forehead down on his nose as she pushes his head back. Blood sprays from his nose and he grunts in pain as Jill releases from him and slips back behind her line, knife at the ready.
"God damn it," he snorts, blood flying to the tile floor. "I heard the rumors that you had a superpower… Must've been all those experiments Wesker put you through."
Her eyes widen and he chuckles, "Oh, you thought that was a redacted secret? Hidden behind the little black lines like the existence of aliens or who shot JFK? Nah, Blue Umbrella told us everything, Jill. Increased reflexes that border on precognition… An incredible resistance to all manner of diseases, viruses, and other infections…"
Every word he speaks fills her head and she knows what comes next, "And the inability to have chi-"
She pounces him to the ground, her fists flying into his face, working that already broken nose into powder and that smug face into what could pass for ground beef. A flash of light signals he's trying to draw a backup firearm, but Jill stops that with a foot to the wrist and a twist to break the joint. A burst of sound and she's not fast enough, the round digging into the flesh just a mere few centimeters above her clavicle. The force knocks her off balance and she rolls back behind her line, gun aimed at the men starting to pour in from that side elevator. Three should be the max, but she groans as more than that, a lot more than that, fill the hallway. The masks of nine men armed and armored reflect her own face back at her, this isn't going to be her day.
She feels something buzz in her back pocket and she quickly removes the item, finding it to be an earbud that she slips into her ear, "Jill? Leon dropped a leather pouch two steps behind you, that should help make things a little more even. Sorry I can't be there."
"All good, Redfield," she steps back as the men start to figure out their pattern of attack. "Leather pouch? Two steps?"
"Yup, thermal scan also shows that two of them are packing shock weapons, so watch out," always looking out for them…
Jill's eyes shift and she spots the two men in question, both of them eyeing up the sides to try to flank her. Okay, no time to rest, and Jill draws another line in the tile with the back of her boot. She taps the line with the knife and slides back from it, her hand grasping the leather pouch, finding it stuffed with a few lockpicks. A chuckle leaves her lips as she slips the pouch into the pocket above her left breast and she slips three of the tools out and between her fingers.
"Again, try to cross my line," Jill rolls her neck and prepares for the next onslaught.
Two men charge forward, snapping their batons to the full length, and proceed to swing them at her. She blocks the first one with the knife and side-steps the second attack before jamming her pick-filled hand repeatedly into the first attacker's arm. Blood drips to the floor as he screams and backs off, giving the blonde ample space to kick the second man against the wall and jam the picks into his neck. Gurgling noises filter from the mask and Jill doesn't let him go until blood begins to pour from the filters.
His body slumps to the ground and she turns toward the rest of them, holding up her hand currently holding the bloody picks, "Next?"
One of the shock-troopers steps up with a man who appears to barely fit in his outfit, a decent challenge probably. The shock rod sparks as it drags along the floor, the man using it opting for an uppercut. The larger man moves like he's just trying to eat up space, which works in her favor as she steps back one more step and quickly drops down onto the big man's foot, jamming the picks into his shin over and over again. He groans in pain and shifts his weight quickly to the other foot, which costs him his balance. The form shifts to the left and nearly squashes the shock-trooper against the wall, but the shock rod does its job of shocking the absolute hell out of the big man and the two collapse to the ground.
"Oh that's just not fair," she glances over them and shrugs. "I wanted my playthings… You gonna volunteer?"
Five left, she can make it, she can hold out, she can survive, but the elevator dings and two more men step out, these not playing games as they hold up their weapons and start the barrels spinning. They seriously brought miniguns? Are they fucking crazy!? Jill drops down behind the two men she just took out as gunfire erupts over her. Blood flies into the air as chunks of meat and bone start to rain down, Jill really thinking she made a mistake trying to waste this much time… The bodies shake and rumble with the sustained onslaught and she knows she doesn't have much time to make a move.
"I'm sorry, is that a minigun I hear?" Perfect timing for Claire to chime in…
Jill hunkers down more against the body and calls out, "Two! There's two of them! I'd love an idea if you got one!"
"I can't really see much, sorry… Heat signatures are about it I'm afraid. You are fucking Jill Valentine, you got this," yeah, she does, but how?
Her gun rests against her hip and she gets an idea, but isn't sure at all if it's going to work. The men step forward, the miniguns still shredding the air and the two bodies she's almost hiding under at this point. Jill waits as her handgun is slid up, her eyes watching the weapons shift back and forth over the hall. She exhales and shifts left, being careful to not draw attention to her movements. Once she feels like she's in the correct spot, Jill aims her weapon at the big man's head, offers a prayer, and fires. The head shifts and jostles from the shot and the miniguns quickly shift to that area and proceed to shred anything around that spot. As the weapons are trained there, Jill steps up, aims her handgun, and fires a shot into the face mask of the gunner on the right. His gun lowers and stops spinning as he steps back, groaning in pain at the shattered glass and dented mask. His partner starts to turn in her direction, but Jill isn't having any of it as she fires once into the mask, another shot to the right shoulder, another into the left shoulder, and three shots into each leg.
As the second gunner drops to the ground and stops moving, Jill walks up to the one with the damaged mask and fires another shot into the opening in the mask with each word, "What. The. Fuck. Else. Do. You. Have?"
Pain courses through her body as that second shock rod slams into the back of her neck. Her vision wavers and darkens, but Jill maintains her balance as the remaining soldiers begin to surround her. Kicks, punches, more attacks with that goddamn shock rod, and Jill feels blood fill her mouth. A rib breaks as a kick lifts her a bit off the floor, but Jill just remembers one very important thing…
I'm Jill fucking Valentine. Her arms wrap around the leg and she claws her way up the body, the man screaming as her nails dig through the cloth and into his skin.
She slams her face into the man's nose, sending him to the ground, where she rolls over his body and kicks the next one as hard in the balls as she possibly can. He crumples like a wet napkin and she jumps to her feet, spitting the blood in her mouth to the tile and preparing to attack the next target. Not many of them left, but their attacks have definitely leveled the playing field as she feels her strength starting to fade.
"Hey, Valen-bitch," she glares at the one speaking, but she notices as he takes a step back, about to cross over the line she drew. "Forget something?"
"That's the problem," she flexes her hands, the knuckles cracking, "none of you ever knew the point of that exercise…"
The shock rod is powered on again and he raises it up, preparing to charge, but Jill just clasps her hands together, rotates her body to the left, and slams both fists into his stomach as the shock rod tumbles over her back. The attacker stumbles back as Jill flips backward, grabbing the shock rod, and she brandishes it on the two remaining soldiers. They use the shock rod exactly how she taught them, efficiently, but that's not what she's going to do… She turns the rod underhand and waves for one of them to make the first move. As the soldier on the left charges her, Jill Valentine brings the shock rod up, preparing not to use it efficiently, but violently.
She dodges the punch and brings the rod up into the soldier's face as hard as she can, sparks flying into the air as the man screams and quickly drops to the ground, possibly dead, "And then there was one…"
The man steps back, his legs crossing over that scuff mark on the tile, and he smugly responds, "Crossed it…"
All these years of teaching them all that exercise, not a single one of them has ever gotten the point of it, and it's time she finally explains, "The point of this exercise is not the line. It's about being aware of your surroundings. To fight your target while being completely aware of where your footing is. So, congratulations on crossing the line, but what did you miss?"
He crosses his arms over his chest and responds flatly, "Doesn't matter, you're dead, Valentine…"
"No," she drops to a squat, "I don't think I am…"
Jill drops the shock rod into the puddle of blood pouring from the bullet-riddled bodies, the charge coursing through it and up the blood coating his pants, the man shaking and convulsing as foamy saliva pours from his lips. Suddenly the shock rod starts to spark and then explodes, Jill flipping back to avoid the shards and then dropping against the wall, finally feeling the fatigue settle in as she is the last person alive in the hallway.
Several Years Ago
Jill leans against the wall of the elevator as the floor numbers ding past, her knuckles rapping against the sheet metal to distract her from her reason for being here. She's as nervous now as she was the day she first walked in here for this particular patient. Recovery is going well, but according to the doctor the therapy isn't exactly stellar news. Jill knows her role here is to just support, but nothing about the situation feels right and even the door opening to a bustling hospital hallway does nothing to block out the worry and doubt.
"Can I help you?" The woman behind the counter has clearly practiced her polite attitude even as the bags under her eyes show just how tired and over it she is.
The blonde taps nervously on the sign-in clipboard, "Jill Valentine to see Claire Redfield."
"Well," the brunette nods at that clipboard, "fill that out for me real fast and I'll get you an escort to her room."
The form isn't much to look at, just some basic check-in information like name, an address, and a phone number. The information is quickly jotted onto the paper and the woman, who finally introduces herself as Dottie, stands up and personally walks her down the hallway. Along the way they discuss anything that isn't Claire and Jill silently thanks her for that. Some of the topics discussed are animals, stupid relatives, and just how many of the people under their care are here because of alcohol.
"Here you go, dear," the door is tapped and Dottie steps out of the way, allowing Jill to clear her throat and slowly enter.
The room is surprisingly homier than she expected, probably Chris's handiwork no doubt, as the lamp casts yellow light around the room, "Jill? Oh thank God. Come here, right this second!"
It sounds urgent and Jill bolts down into the chair resting against Claire's bed, but stops and looks at the redhead in confusion as she holds out her phone, "Tell Chris that this looks just like him, please. I can't be the only one who sees it."
The image is a shot from the movie '12 Strong' and Jill can't help but laugh at the picture. It's Chris Hemsworth dressed in full military garb and it looks almost exactly like Chris. The older Redfield sees her face, frowns, and huffs once his arms are crossed, clearly displeased with her agreement.
"It does look like you," Jill smiles, "but that's only because of how thinned out you are now. Buffed up? Running around Africa? Totally Bradley Cooper in American Sniper."
"YES!" Claire cheers and points at her brother, "that was the other movie!"
"Please," Chris almost pouts at the accusation, "if it's a military movie, you see me in it, Claire. Great, I'm being type-cast by my own sister…"
Claire giggles and leans forward, Jill noticing the small hint of pain in her face, "Then, big brother, tell me who you see yourself as."
"Clearly I'm Thor." He stands up and flexes his muscles, but glances at Jill as she rolls her eyes, "What? Something wrong with that choice?"
"Same actor, dumbass," she watches the statement process in his brain and almost feels bad as he drops into his own chair, a little defeated.
It's a good moment, a fun one, but it doesn't last long as the Doctor steps into the room, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"Nah, not at all," Claire waves him off and smiles. "Jill, this is Doctor Grainger," she leans over and whispers, "he provides the best drugs, I swear."
Jill holds back the laugh as Doctor Grainger starts slipping x-rays onto the light board, "Pleasure to meet you, Jill. Are you okay that she's here for this?"
"Practically family, doc," Claire glares at her brother, "maybe."
"Okay," he turns on the screen and Jill instantly recognizes the damage, her hand reaching up to her mouth to hold in the gasp. "The bullet did shatter the vertebrae in this region of the spine… We've repaired the damage as best we could, but after a few weeks of therapy, the odds of you walking again don't look good, I'm afraid. I'm hopeful that with continued sessions and some very promising studies out of Johns Hopkins, you may very well regain some mobility, but I don't think you will be able to run again, Miss Redfield…"
The drugs must be good because all Claire is doing is just smiling right along and nodding, but there, right there, a small flash of understanding… Claire is doing her best not to fall apart at the seams for Chris's sake, but that doesn't exactly matter as the blonde watches Chris nearly tear the arms off the chair.
Once the doctor leaves after answering a few questions, Jill turns to Claire and frowns, "If there's anything I can d-"
"Hunt down the bitch in red and kill her," Chris grumbles as he nearly eats his own knuckles to stop from screaming. "Should've done the same myself in China… Fucking Kennedy stopping me that night. Should've shot him too."
"Stop." Claire spins toward her brother and glares at him, "You don't get to blame him for this…"
Jill arches an eyebrow, curious at that statement, but Claire shows just how much of a Redfield she is, "That's my blame to throw around… Yeah, she's been a blight on all of us and he should've made sure she was fucking dead…"
She reaches out to grab Claire's hand, but it just clenches into a fist and pounds into the mattress, Jill wincing at the dull thud of the punch landing on her left leg, "I lost the ability to walk and all she did was get away… Where's the fucking justice in that, Leon!? HUH!? YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!"
The redhead has thrown her head back to scream it to the ceiling as tears pour down her face, "Everything, I've lost nearly everything… Why do we lose things but she gets away completely free and clear? Why….?"
Present Day
"Jill!?" There's that voice she expected to hear and she goes to reply to him, but can only manage some gurgled blood and a slow nod.
She smiles as Chris drops down next to her and lifts her chin with his hand, "Fighting the good fight, aren't we?"
"Yeah, yeah we are…" Her hand moves his vest out the way so she can see the wound. "That looks bad…"
He coughs a laugh out, "Not as bad as you. Did you get into a fight with an entire lawn care service?"
She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs, "I've never said it, you know."
"Yeah, I know," he rests his head against the top of hers and a smile crosses his lips, "but I don't think now seems like the right time…"
She tries to laugh, but it just forces a cough through her body, "What do you think would be the right time?"
"Before Arklay? After Arklay? Once we were reunited after Raccoon exploded? Definitely before you went out that window," they both start laughing. "And the perfect time would've been after we got back from Africa."
A long bit of silence before Jill finally admits it, "Yeah, compared to those, this is the worst time to say it…"
His fingers entwine with hers and he nods, "Yup… The worst. Did Kennedy make it?"
"Yeah, he made it upstairs… He left us a gift," she holds up the earpiece.
Chris presses it into his ear, "That you, Claire?"
Jill knows that Claire can immediately sense that he's not all right and his answer cements that, "Just a few little injuries. Nothing to worry yourself about… Think you can get Hunnigan to get us a pickup? I don't think the B.S.A.A. is going to listen to us anymore…"
End