A. N: The fifth chapter. Enjoy, strangahs.
Chapter: FIVE
Leon loaded a new clip into his handgun, waiting, as the mob converged on the camp. What's up with these people? Leon thought, Seems like everyone I meet nowadays wants to murder me. Alexander was by the tent, preparing his own supplies while Ashley stayed inside. Leon knew she wouldn't take part in the fighting. Leon could guess from her time in Spain that she was a pacifist, although sometimes her helplessness annoyed him. He never told her that, of course.
"Jeez, can they go any slower?" complained Alexander as he was loading his gun, "I could probably go take a dump and they wouldn't be here yet."
"That's gross," commented Ashley from inside the tent.
Leon looked at Alexander's gun and recognized the interesting shape of the Red9. With a pang of sadness, Leon remembered Luis Sera, his short-lived friend from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Osmund Saddler, the leader of the Los Illuminados, had killed him. When he was just barely clinging to life, he had given Leon a pill to suppress growth of the Las Plagas. If not for Luis, he and Ashley would be slaves inside their own minds.
Leon was shaken from his thoughts as a Swiss-army knife connected with the tree beside him. The knife was about two inches away from slicing out Leon's temple.
"Dammit!" Leon cursed, "They're attacking!"
"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's kick their asses!"
Leon took am at the nearest Victim, a bald muscular man who was wielding a large sheath knife.
BAM!
Leon fired and the Victim dropped the knife, clutching his injured arm. Alexander ran up and landed a hard punch right to the Victim's face. The Victim fell to the ground, it's face completely caved in. Blood poured out from its disfigured head.
Alexander held up his fist, "I snatched the brass knuckles from one of those pervert-Victims who were attacking Ashley. Turns out they came in handy."
Leon nodded in acknowledgement and directed his focus back on the rest of the mob. They were all attacking at once now. The odds were about forty-seven to two but Leon had dealt with worse. Besides, this time he had a partner at his side.
"Die, home-dawg!"
Leon ducked as a baseball bat swung, whooshing over his head. He turned around as the Victim was recovering from his swing and kicked him to the ground. Leon quickly pulled out his combat knife and finished off the Victim with a slice to the neck.
A Victim was grappling Alexander a few feet away. Leon took aim and shot the Victim, spurts of crimson blood shooting from its headless body.
"Thanks!"
Click.
Leon thought he heard the sound of a gun being reloaded from within the horde.
Bam! Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!
"Oww, shit!" Leon saw Alexander fall to his knees, blood seeping from his bullet wounds. Leon located the gun-wielding Victim and saw that it had the TMP. The same TMP, Leon noticed, that he had once purchased from the strange, cloaked Merchant during the Los Illuminados incident.
It can't be…
Leon pushed his thoughts aside and took aim at the Victim's leg. Leon ran up and snatched the gun from its hands and pulled out his knife, preparing to finish the Victim off.
The Victim's eyes were pleading,
"No! No, please! You don't understand! It's not me, it's the vi—" But Leon had to put his and Alexander's lives first. He slashed the Victim's throat, adding it to the rapidly growing mound of bodies. But wait. Was the dying Victim about to say 'virus?'
Leon ran over to Alexander's side and helped him to his feet.
"You okay?" Leon asked,
"Yeah I'm fine. Although now I'm out of ammo."
Leon held out the TMP and a fresh clip, "Here, take it."
Alexander took the weapon and loaded the clip into it.
"Thanks, again."
"No problem."
Immediately, Alexander got up and started to mow down the five remaining enemies in front of him. Leon thought he was getting a little too trigger-happy for his own good.
"Oh, yeah! Freaks!" He turned to face Leon, "What now?!"
Leon and Alexander holstered their guns, looking at the pile of bodies, stacked above a lake of blood.
"Jeez, what do they want with us?" Alexander asked, breaking the silence, "Was I a Nazi in my past life or something? Well, screw you, karma!"
"Having the feeling that someone's out to get you is one thing," Leon started, "but it's another thing entirely when everyone actually is."
"Too true."
The two headed back to camp in silence, not looking back at the scene of carnage they had left behind.
The battle had taken them quite a ways away from the camp and Leon was relieved to see that Ashley was safe inside the tent. Alexander went over to talk with Ashley.
"What the hell were you doing?" Alexander's voice had an irritated edge to it, "We were out there fighting for our lives and you just sat here in this tent! Tell me you know how to use a gun."
"Well, I never really—"
"Wait, you mean you have no idea how to use a weapon? What did you do while you were with Leon? What was your role?"
Leon had a flashback to the Los Illuminados incident, where a lone Ganado was carrying Ashley away.
"Leon, heeelp!" she screamed, pounding on its back.
Leon came back to reality and turned to Alexander,
"Come on, give her a break. We beat them, didn't we?"
"I guess so," was Alexander's only reaction.
"Thanks," Ashley whispered to Leon,
"No problem," replied Leon.
Something in the distance caught Leon's eye. It looked as if there was a bluish light coming from somewhere not too far off. Leon grabbed a pair of binoculars from the old truck and zoomed in on the light. Leon stepped back in alarm. The light appeared to be coming from a torch, the flames burning an eerie, bright blue. Leon had seen those torches before. They belonged to the Merchant. The Merchant had been one of the main reasons that Leon and Ashley had gotten out with their lives in Spain. He had sold Leon nearly all of his guns, which, unfortunately, had been confiscated by the Spanish police at the airport. It was a shame. Some of them had been very nice weapons.
Was the Merchant here, in Starcrest forest? There was only one way to find out.
Leon called Ashley and Alexander over to him and showed them the light.
"I think we should head over there," Leon suggested, "It might lead to civilization."
"It is in the direction of Starcrest," Alexander pointed out.
"It might be our only hope. Let's go, and hope that we aren't dealing with more Victims."
It wasn't a very long walk to the light, only about a five or ten minute walk. The blue flame began to illuminate the forest around them and Leon felt a creeping sensation in his spine.
It's just the Merchant, he told himself, although he wasn't sure whether it really was, He's not a Victim.
As the three went onward, Leon could make out the shape of a cloaked figure. A hood covered his face and his cloak was purple. It had to be the Merchant.
After a couple seconds, they were finally face to face with the Merchant.
"I don't know about this guy," warned Alexander, "He seems sort of strange."
"He's fine," said Leon, "I'll explain back at camp.'
"Welcome!" boomed the Merchant. His eyes darted from Leon to Ashley, and then back to Leon, skipping Alexander.
"You look familiar. Have I seen you strangahs before?
"Ah, yes, I remember. You were my best customer back in Spain, hehe. Made myself a new belt from all of them Spinels, I did. You'll be happy to know that I now accept U. S. dollars, hehe. Now, then, what're ya buyin'?"
The Merchant lifted his cloak to reveal the small arsenal underneath. He had a different variety of weapons since Leon had last seen him. Hopefully, he would have something of use. Leon looked down and saw that the Merchant's belt was studded with hundreds of Spinels, all glittering beautifully in the torchlight.
Leon saw something of interest among the Merchant's supply: a C4 explosive. It would be perfect for setting traps. Hopefully, he had enough money in his wallet to afford it.
"How much for the C4's?" Leon asked.
"Ahh, my newest addition," the Merchant replied, "I'm afraid they don't come cheap, strangah. They're ten bucks each, but if ya buy five, I'll give ya two extra for free, since you're my best customer."
Ouch. That was fifty dollars. Leon had only sixty-one in his wallet but those explosives could really come in handy. Besides, the Merchant wasn't known for his cheap prices. Leon handed the money to the Merchant.
"Hehehe. Thank you."
"Anything for the lady?" the Merchant turned to Ashley.
"Umm, do you have a First-Aid Spray?"
"Five bucks, strangah."
Ashley handed the Merchant her own money. Leon saw the words "Umbrella Chemical, Inc" printed at the bottom of the can. As many times as he had used these, he never really noticed that label. Ironic, that Umbrella, whose experiments had nearly killed him many times over, would create a product so essential for Leon's survival.
The Merchant turned to face Alexander, "What about the new strangah?"
"You got any food? I'm starving!"
"How much ya got?" Alexander handed the Merchant his wallet.
"Sorry mate, that just won't cut it."
"Could you put in on my tab?"
"Not enough cash, strangah."
Alexander gave the Merchant an irritated look and turned away, snatching his wallet from the man's hands.
"Thanks," said Leon to the Merchant.
"Come back anytime."
The three headed away from the Merchant, towards what they hoped was some sort of civilization. They had gone back to camp, packed up, and filed into the old pickup. It was only two seats and was very cramped. Alexander was in the middle and was looking very cross.
"Urgh, stupid geezer," he complained, "we just got back from a battle with about four-billion Victims and all I wanted was some frickin' food!"
"I'm sure we'll get somewhere eventually," Ashley said, encouragingly.
"So says the weakling who can't even hold a gun."
"Aww," Ashley said, teasingly, "Little Alex is just cranky because his tummy's empty."
Alexander shot the President's daughter a look of venom, "Call me 'Little Alex' one more time," he threatened.
"Guys, shut up," Leon began, "You're like a bunch of three year-olds. I'm sure we'll get somewhere eventually. You're not the only one who's hungry."
"Look!" Ashley pointed out, "I see lights!"
Leon looked off into the distance, "Yeah, I see them too. Maybe it'll be a restaurant."
Leon drove faster until the building was in view. It wasn't much more than an old shack painted red and white, but it was a restaurant. The sign read 'Pappy's House of Flapjacks' with about five burned out lights in the sign.
"Hell. No." Alexander looked at Leon, "Leon, we are not stopping here. There is no way in the fiery pit of Hades that I am ever stepping inside that place again."
"I thought you were hungry," replied Leon.
"I'm not that hungry,"
"Well, you're welcome to stay in the truck while we eat, then. Come on, Ashley."
Alexander sighed, "Fine, but you'll see what I mean."
The three walked into the restaurant and were immediately greeted by a horde of old men.
"Well, hello, sonnyboys and missy ma'ams! Welcome to Pappy's House of Flapjacks, where everyone's your pappy! My name is Herald and I'll be your pappy for tonight."
Leon saw Alexander's face start turning red.
"Sit down, pappyflaps, and I'll get your menus."
Leon, Ashley, and Alexander went to find a table to sit at, while they waited for Herald, their 'pappy,' to come with their menus.
"Do you see what I mean now?" Alexander asked, "These guys are total psychos!"
"Yeah, they are sort of weird," Leon agreed, "but what choice do we have? The pickup's almost out of gas."
Alexander was about to reply but then Herald came back with their menus.
"Geeee!" he explained, "Sorry, pappyflaps, but we're all out of the Old Coal Mine. You get your choice of the Pappystack or the Beefly Special."
Alexander ordered first, "Fine, I'll have the damn Pappystack."
Leon ordered the Beefly Special and Ashley did the same. Meanwhile, Alexander explained his previous experience at Pappy's House of Flapjacks.
"That's one of the reasons I hate this place so much," he explained, "I can't believe I killed that guy, even though he was a freak."
"We all have things that we're ashamed of," Leon said, "Just that not many people choose to talk about it. It takes courage.'
"Okay, okay," Alexander replied, looking a bit embarrassed, "can we cut the sappy crap now?"
Leon was about to reply but was stopped by a tired-looking old man, carrying a cane that looked like it had been through a lot. There were scratches and chips everywhere. Leon thought he had seen the man before but couldn't recall where.
"Well," the aged man began, "it looks like we have some talking to do."
The man sat down at the table and looked at the three of them, his gaze switching between them.
"Well?" he asked, "who shall begin? We all have much to speak of."
A. N: The whole Pappy's House of Flapjacks deal is a long story that I won't waste your time explaining. Come back anytime.