TITLE: RESIDENT EVIL: A DREAM DEFERRED: BOOK THREE OF THE SERA TRILOGY
AUTHOR: ADAM NICKELS
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is! The final book in one of the most captivating trilogies since The Lord Of The Rings! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. This has been a fulfilling experience for me. Thank you all for the rave reviews so far. Keep 'em coming! That being said, I dedicate this book and trilogy to all the hardcore Resident Evil fans out there. You know who you are. To those of you that can tell me how many teeth the Grave Digger in Code: Veronica and The Umbrella Chronicles has, I tip my hat to you. You are truly hardcore. And yes, that's a challenge!
On with the story!
Adam Nickels
CHAPTER ONE: THE AWAKENING
Luis woke up screaming his dead wife's name into the darkness of the room he was in. He screamed for what seemed like hours and hours, lamenting the loss of his closest friends at the hands of an evil genius named Albert Wesker. Then, he realized it was only a dream.
Madre de Dios, that was a bad dream! I don't have a wife at all, especially one named Chelsea! Leon doesn't like Ada! He's married to Claire Redfield! Why would I dream something like that? Must have been something I ate.
Luis got up and stumbled toward the bathroom of his small flat in downtown Moscow. He had begun renting it after he narrowly survived the ordeal at Salazar Castle in rural Spain.
Splashing water on his face, he surveyed his face in the mirror. He really needed to shave.
Too bad I don't have a razor. Oh, well. Maybe good ol' Sergei will up my pay one of these days.
Sergei Vladimir was Luis' boss. After getting back from Spain, Luis took a job at Blatvask, a pharmaceutical company that specialized in painkillers. It suited his expertise as a scientist, and the pay wasn't that bad, either.
Hell, sixty grand a year isn't that bad. I really should ask him for a raise, though.
Luis walked slowly back to his bedroom and began to dress for the day. Even though the doctors said he had made a full recovery from being impaled by Saddler, he still felt a twinge of pain emanating from his chest from time to time.
Fully dressed in black slacks and a blue dress shirt with a yellow tie, Luis stepped out his front door and into the midst of early morning mayhem as cars competed for a place in the never ending line of traffic.
God, I'm glad I don't have a car.
Blatvask was only about five blocks from Luis' apartment, so he walked to work every day.
Keeps me in shape. Otherwise, with all the beer I drink, I would weigh a good three hundred pounds right now!
Taking in the sights around him, he turned left and began to walk.
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Luis approached the front desk and signed in, beginning the workday. Luis worked eight-hour shifts every day for a week, then he had the next week off. Today was his last day this week.
Ah, I wonder what I'll do next week? Visit Leon in Nice, maybe?
After the Illuminados incident, Leon had taken a job as a police officer in Nice, France. He still kept in touch with Ashley, albeit as a friend, and nothing more. Leon was devoted to Claire, Chris' little sister.
In the months after the Illuminados incident, Luis had been introduced to most of the Raccoon City survivors, including Leon (obviously), Chris, Jill, Barry, and Ada (just as obviously). He had been informed on all of the evil doings of the corporation Umbrella and the leaders of the evil organization, including Wesker, Ozwell Spencer, and Edward Ashford.
After being brought up to speed, Luis decided to get his feet on the ground before helping the opposition in their plans to thwart the schemes of Umbrella, which is exactly what he was doing at Blatvask.
He reached a simple wooden door with a brass plate on it. The plate said, simply, "Luis Raval." Raval was the surname that he had assumed out of fear of being caught by Umbrella.
Unlocking the door with a key attached to a massive key ring that would have made a dungeon master proud, Luis plodded in and plopped down at his desk. He had a lot of paperwork to fill out. It was going to be a long day.
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Leon approached the red sports car from behind in his standard issue Crown Victoria squad car. A brief check with dispatch told him that the car was indeed stolen.
Turning on his siren, he put on his loudspeaker. In an authoritative voice, he boomed, "SIR! PLEASE EXIT THE VEHICLE AND PLACE YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"
The criminal obviously took no heed to his words and stepped on the gas. Leon groaned loudly and floored the gas pedal, easily catching up to the criminal's stolen car.
Son of a bitch! France has its fair share of criminals, that's for sure!
Leon decided to cut the car off. Edging past it, he got a glimpse of the driver. The driver held Leon's gaze as Leon looked into the face of the woman who refused to die, Ada Wong!
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Luis sighed as the clock's hour hand reached the five. It was time to hit the bar. Gathering his briefcase and coat, Luis closed his office door and locked it. Whistling as he walked, he approached Sergei Vladimir's office, intent on asking for a raise. Vladimir was deep in conversation with someone with a mellifluous voice, with just a trace of a British accent. Not wanting to disturb him, Luis waited patiently outside of his office. Inadvertently, he overheard the conversation inside. The stranger's voice spoke first.
"My dear Sergei, although Ozwell and Edward trust you, I don't."
Luis stiffened and leaned forward, eager to catch more of the conversation.
Ozwell and Edward are common names. He couldn't be talking about them, could he?
Vladimir's voice spoke next.
"And I don't trust you, either, Wesker. But, more pressing matters weigh more heavily than our personal differences. The production of the Ivan Tyrant has been halted. Why?"
Luis nearly shit himself when he heard this exchange.
Holy God! Somehow, Sergei is involved with Umbrella!
Wesker responded, "You only need three for your bodyguards. Any more, and Ashford will think you are raising a personal army!"
"Well, maybe I am."
Wesker started to reply, then made a coughing noise. The two men approached the door.
Luis stepped back as if he had just arrived and had not heard the conversation.
Oh, shit! Here they come!
The door opened, and out into the hall stepped Sergei Vladimir and a much taller man, obviously Wesker. Wesker was a tall man of about six-foot-five, with reddish-blonde hair slicked back severely from his forehead. He was wearing a black camel's-hair suit with matching pants. Dark sunglasses bridged his straight nose, and as Luis watched, he pushed back the glasses with a gloved finger.
Vladimir took notice of Luis for the first time. He brightened immediately, but Luis felt his stomach drop to the floor. There was no way that Wesker wouldn't recognize him immediately.
Sergei gestured toward Luis and said, "Mr. Wesker, this is my Production Manager, Luis Raval. Luis, this is Albert Wesker."
Luis was sweating rivets by now.
What should I do! Oh, shit!
Wesker glanced at Luis, a small look of surprise briefly flashing across his face, but vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"Luis…Raval, is it? It is a pleasure to meet you." Wesker extended a gloved hand. Luis shook the proffered hand limply, happy that Wesker didn't give him away, at least not immediately.
Wesker glared at Luis for a long time, his lensed eyes boring holes into Luis'. Then, he said, "Well, my dear Sergei, I'll be seeing you soon. Goodbye for now."
With that parting shot, Wesker glided down the hallway and out of sight. Luis breathed a sigh of relief, glad that that ordeal was over.
Man, that was a close one. I have no doubt that Wesker will be wanting to talk to me later.
"What brings you here, Luis?"
Luis was snapped back from the depths of thought by Vladimir's question. He took a deep breath, remembering what he originally came here to do.
Here goes nothing.
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Wesker walked out of the office building and to his waiting vehicle, vintage Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith. He contemplated how Luis possibly could have survived the bombing of the Pueblo and surrounding areas.
The only other people to escape the island alive were Ada, Leon, and the brat. He couldn't have left with Leon and Ashley, so...
The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. Ada was a traitor.
Wesker started his car and peeled out of the parking lot, fuming.
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Leon motioned for Ada to pull over. He still couldn't comprehend running into her here, in Nice, of all places. She nodded in agreement and pulled over to the side of the road. Leon got out of the car, wondering what he would say to her.
Here goes...
The window rolled down, and Ada's features came into view. She was a beautiful woman of Asian descent. She wore her trademark red dress. Her features lit up as she turned to speak.
"Leon. It's been a while."
Leon replied, "Tell me about it. Where've you been, and why is this car reported stolen?"
Ada, as mysterious as ever, answered with, "Some things are better off not knowing. This is one of them."
She peeled out of the margin of the road, tires spinning. Leon, a surprised look on his face, grunted, then smiled dimly.
"Women!"
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Luis walked out of Vladimir's office, beaming. He had gotten his raise, and more. He was offered an apartment in relatively the same area of Moscow, but this time Blatvask was paying.
Well, I hoped good ol' Sergei would cough up, and he did! Damn, I need a drink!
Luis opened the front door and stepped out into the afternoon sun, still beaming. Then, he saw a man that made his smile falter.
Wesker.
Wesker walked toward Luis, a smirk on his face. Adjusting his shades with a finger, he said, "Sera. I didn't think you made it out alive. Ada must have been very attached to you."
Luis, nonplussed, replied, "Ada is a good person."
Wesker's expression suddenly turned to one of annoyance. "Good person or not," he said, "She will still have to die."
The expression on Luis' face said it all to Wesker. He bade Luis goodbye and walked back to his car.
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CHAPTER TWO: DEATH OF A TURNCOAT
Wesker sat down at his control panel, placing his hands on the controls. He pulled up a map of Europe and easily located Ada by the RFID chip implanted in her shoulder.
Score one for modern technology.
She seemed to be holed up in the slums of Nice.
No matter. I'll have to get a different car to go into the ass of Nice, though.
"Bobby!" Wesker fairly shouted. A small, harried, balding man popped into view.
"Yes sir?" He said meekly. Like almost everyone else, except for the abominable Chris Redfield, he was very afraid of Albert Wesker.
"Get me a real ass of a car."
"Yes, sir!"
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Ada sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands in the ass of a motel that she was staying in. Seeing Leon had really shook her up. She was genuinely in love with him, but knew she couldn't have him. He was Claire's.
What am I going to do about him? Should I tell him?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door. She stood up, gun in hand, and tentatively opened the door. On the veranda stood Albert Wesker. She lowered her gun and put it on the dilapidated dresser near the door, then motioned him in. Wesker stooped to enter the low doorframe, then closed the door swiftly and drew his gun, pointing it at Ada's forehead.
Ada gasped, knowing that the jig was up. He had found out.
"Ms. Wong, you are trying my patience. I was good enough to rescue you from Raccoon City, but how do you repay me?" His voice grew increasingly louder. He was losing his temper, a rarity for him. "HOW DO YOU REPAY ME!"
He walked toward her, forcing her to take a step back. He reached into his custom-tailored camel's-hair sport coat and pulled out a silencer. Screwing it on his pistol, he took careful aim at the spot between Ada's angular eyes.
"Any last words?"
Ada, scared out of her mind, opened her mouth to speak. Wesker interrupted her. "I didn't think so."
Without remorse, Albert Wesker pulled the trigger.
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Stealthily, Chris crept toward the figure, his boots not making a noise. Standing up behind the lone figure, he suddenly wrapped his arms around the woman, startling her.
Jill turned and slugged Chris on the shoulder in mock anger. Chris shrugged and said, "Gotcha!"
Jill, a little irritated, exclaimed, "Chris! Don't startle me like that!"
Chris shrugged again and replied, "I just wanted to tell you that our flight to Russia departs tomorrow morning at 6:00." They were going to the Umbrella lab in southern Russia as part of a Biohazard Cleanup Team who's purpose was to kill all of the BOWs, or Bio-Organic Organisms, that Umbrella made.
Jill looked even angrier as she said, "Couldn't you have gotten a later flight?"
Chris replied, "No. They were all booked."
Jill decided to call it a night. Turning the light off, she said goodnight and rolled over. Although the light was out, she didn't get to sleep for many hours, as flashbacks from the Arklay mansion incident haunted her dreams.
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Luis laughed as Leon stuffed a whole piece of pizza into his gaping mouth at once. Luis was a guest at the house of Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield. They sat around the dinner table.
Finally swallowing the massive piece of cheesy goodness, Leon said, "Told you I could do it. Your turn, Claire!"
Claire laughed and shook her head. "No way. I'm full."
Luis picked up a piece and said, "That's no excuse!"
The jubilation was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Leon got up and opened the door. On the porch stood his brother-in-law, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend/S.T.A.R.S. partner, Jill Valentine. He welcomed them in with a smile and gestured to the empty seats at the table. "Please, sit!"
Not wanting to waste any time, Chris began, "Guys, I'll get to the point. Jill and I are leaving for Russia soon."
Leon asked the question on everyone's mind.
"Why?"
Chris started to respond, but Jill cut him off.
"Let's just say it's classified."
Luis suddenly remembered his exchange with Wesker at Vladimir's office. Clearing his throat to get attention, he said, "I may know why."
That made everyone stop talking. Directing his question to Chris, he asked, "Does it have anything to do with Sergei Vladimir and a secret Umbrella base?"
The look on Chris' face told it all.
"I work for Sergei Vladimir at Blatvask, AKA Umbrella," Luis said by way of explanation.
Leon interrupted the exchange. "Let me go with you."
Chris shook his head and said no firmly. Leon didn't ask again. Chris was one of the few people he was truly uneasy about. A good two inches taller than Leon and twenty pounds heavier, Chris was a force to be reckoned with.
"Only Jill and I can go," Chris said to no one in particular.
Claire stood up and embraced her brother. "Come back safe, ok?"
Chris' impassive face softened under the worshipful stare of his sister. "No problem, sis."
Chris and Jill stood up to go. Everyone bid them farewell. They walked out the door, not uttering another word.
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The plane touched down in Novosibirsk the next day. Chris and Jill exited the plane slowly. They were tired from the 15-hour flight from New York.
Chris turned to Jill. "Where's Barry?"
As if answering his question, a booming voice replied, "Over here, guys!"
Jill and Chris turned to see their good friend and S.T.A.R.S. partner Barry Burton grinning back at them.
Barry was a great bear of a man. Good natured and compassionate, and with a strong sense of duty, he immediately volunteered to come to Russia to infiltrate the Umbrella facility there.
They drove to their hotel (If you could call it that) and checked in for the night. Tomorrow night, the nightmares would end.
Tomorrow night, someone was going to die.
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CHAPTER THREE: MANAGEMENT CHANGE
Wesker had just finished putting on his riot gear when Bobby entered his office.
Wesker turned to face Bobby. Wesker's trademark sunglasses were on his desk, and his unnatural yellow eyes flared as he asked, "What is it? This better be important."
Bobby cringed slightly, then replied, "The helicopter you ordered is fueled and ready, sir."
Wesker's face formed something of an evil grin. "Very good. I'll be leaving within the hour."
"I'll tell the pilot, sir."
With that, Bobby left the room hurriedly. Wesker chuckled to himself.
Scarin' the crap out of them wherever I go.
His thoughts turned to the imminent destruction of Umbrella. The unstoppable Chris Redfield and that bitch of his, Valentine, were hell bent on destroying the Russian Facility. Who was Wesker to stop them?
So, Wesker had formulated a plan. While Red Queen, the defense system, was preoccupied with Redfield and Valentine, Wesker would silently slip in and steal U.M.F.-013, the computer that stored all the files and information for Umbrella. Then, he would erase all the data on the Umbrella mainframe and hightail it out of there.
After forty years, it was time for a management change.
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The chopper cut through the winter night sky, toward its destination, Umbrella HQ. Jill and Chris were sitting in the belly of the 'copter, checking their weapons for any problems.
Jill opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short by the chopper's erratic flight pattern. The helicopter had cut a hard right, throwing her forward. When she recovered, she spoke.
"I hope we make it out of this. Do you think the new B.O.W. is a reality?"
Chris thought for a moment and replied, "I really hope this new bio-weapon is just a rumor."
They neared their destination. Dropping high-tensile steel wire out of the helicopter, they dropped soundlessly into the compound, just outside of the Umbrella-built building.
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Wesker clipped his slider onto the cable that connected to the bottom of the elevator. Holding on tightly, he slid all the way down to the bottom, where he pried the doors open. He cursed, noticing a rip in the fabric of his coat.
He stepped into a room used as a loading dock of sorts for all the chemicals used in Umbrella's testing. He was on edge, mainly because Sergei had unleashed all the Bio-Organic Weapons he had at his disposal in an effort to deter the coming invasion.
The loading dock connected to a long, curving tunnel. At the other end of this tunnel was the door to the silos, storage units for the chemicals.
But between Wesker and that door was one of Umbrella's more tenacious BOWs.
Wesker felt like he had been walking for hours when he turned the corner and saw the double doors leading to the silos. Sighing with relief, he began to walk toward the door.
Just then, something descended from the ceiling, screeching all the way. Wesker knew what it was. In fact, he had helped develop it. It was an infected bat.
Four times the size of a normal bat, the thing could easily kill a man. However, Wesker was more than a man. Wesker smirked to himself.
Is this all you've got, Vlad? I expected more from you!
Wesker took careful aim and fired at the bat's left wing, the wing closest to him. He knew that, once the bat was robbed of flight, it was useless as a weapon.
The infected bat plummeted from the air, screeching and flapping its one good wing erratically. Wesker approached tentatively and nudged the bat with a boot. The bat squealed and bit his boot, but did not penetrate the hard leather. Cursing, Wesker put another bullet in the creature and stopped its cries.
Opening the door, he stepped into the hangar area, and was confronted with a scene that he never expected to see.
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Luis tossed and turned, but could not get to sleep. The horrible dreams of Los Illuminados prevented that.
Screw it. I'll just go to work early.
Getting out of bed slowly, Luis made his way toward the bathroom. After going through the necessary bathroom rituals, he entered the bedroom once more.
He hummed the Mission: Impossible theme while getting dressed. Finally in full work attire, he stepped out the door, in a good mood of sorts.
Damn, it's early. I guess I'll have breakfast at the coffee shop.
Still humming to himself, Luis turned and walked down the sidewalk, fully enjoying the crisp winter morning.
What he didn't notice, however, was the Umbrella Special Forces agent silently tailing him.
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Special agent HUNK sniffed the air, smelling something burning. He quickly pinpointed the distraction: A group of homeless people was crowded around a burning barrel, trying to combat the cold winter morning. They gave him an odd look and turned back to the fire.
Must be wondering why a guy in riot gear and a gas mask is taking a stroll on their street. Oh, well. Screw 'em.
HUNK was tailing Luis Sera, under orders by Wesker to kill him. Sera turned a corner, and HUNK decided that a little subterfuge was to be put into play here.
HUNK was the survivor of countless missions given to him by Umbrella. Unlike those pussy UBCS forces, USF was a special ops sect of Umbrella's private militia. HUNK was the most decorated of all the USF members. He had survived many missions, and in most of them he was the only one to survive, earning him nicknames like "Mr. Death," and "Grim Reaper." He had long ago vowed to himself that if the day came that he failed a mission, that day would be his last. Life would not be worth living.
Climbing the dividing wall, HUNK decided to surprise the unfortunate Spaniard.
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Luis strolled down the street happily, enjoying the sights and sounds of downtown Moscow. He heard a sound behind him.
Spinning around, he saw nothing. Shrugging, he turned back around and got the shock of his life.
A man in army fatigues and a gas mask complete with helmet was standing in front of him. A steel helmet with the word U.S.F. was resting atop the man's head. Motioning with the machine pistol that he had trained on Sera, he pointed to the bushes that ensconced the side of the road.
Hesitantly, Sera moved into the bushes.
When they got under cover of the foliage, the man in the gas mask studied Luis for a second, as if contemplating what to do. Then, he took off the mask.
The man had short brown hair and dull brown eyes. He had a scar running down one side of his face, and his nose was slightly off center, as if it had been broken at one point in time. Then, the man spoke.
"Luis Sera. I am sorry for what I am about to do. But I must. You are a threat to Umbrella."
So that's who he is. He works for Umbrella.
"Any last words?" the man asked before he pulled the trigger.
Luis' mind was spinning. He didn't know what to do. Just then, the foliage parted and a man dived in, on top of the surprised Special Forces agent.
The man was Leon Kennedy.
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Leon dove in, landing on top of the man in combat gear. He had witnessed the exchange from his car, and had gotten out to investigate when the man in riot gear had jumped him.
"You OK?" he asked Luis. By way of reply, Luis fainted. Leon chuckled to himself.
Suddenly, with a burst of strength, the USF agent threw Leon off. Struggling to his feet, Leon watched as the man bit his wristwatch, shattering the crystal. An instant later, the man writhed on the ground in pain, blood pouring from every visible orifice.
HUNK had made good on his promise. Using a potent poison contained within his watch, HUNK had killed himself.
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Wesker entered the room and saw the back of Sergei Vladimir, who was seated at a computer terminal. The terminal was connected to a towering computer array, taking up over a third of the room. Vladimir turned to Wesker and spoke.
"Ah, Wesker! You've come. Oh, by the way, I know of your plot. And, suffice to say, I will not allow it to become a reality. First, you'll have to get through me!"
With that said, Vladimir underwent a frightening transformation. His spine elongated and curved. His forearms melded into one, growing into a large, muscular arm tipped with razor-sharp claws. A giant eye formed near his right arm, and as Wesker watched, it shifted from left to right with a wet slopping sound, as if searching for a victim. The entire transformation had taken all of ten seconds.
Wesker, however, was prepared for this transformation. Pulling a small magnum out of a secret compartment on his tactical vest, he took careful aim and fired at the tumor-like eye.
The BOW round hit the eye dead center, resulting in a spray of yellow matter to erupt from the exploding eye.
The Sergei monster writhed on the ground. Suddenly, hundreds of bony appendages ripped through its skin, resulting in a wave of crimson splashing the surrounding walls.
Sergei Vladimir was no more.
Chuckling, Wesker strode over to the computer terminal. Pulling a removable hard drive from his pocket, he connected it to the computer, then copied all of the data from the Umbrella mainframe to the hard drive.
After double-checking his work, he quickly erased the U.M.F.-013 and turned to leave.
Wesker chuckled to himself again as he made the trek to the roof, to his waiting transport.
Contract: Terminated.
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Chris and Jill stood in front of a door marked, T-A.L.O.S. DO NOT ENTER. The room marked the exact center of the Umbrella structure, and subsequently was the area where they needed to place the explosives to level the place.
Opening the door, they stepped inside to a semi-familiar sight.
In the midst of the random assortment of wires and cables stood a hulking BOW. This was T-A.L.O.S.
Built on a Tyrant base, T-A.L.O.S., or Tyrant Armored Lethal Organic System, was the next generation of BOW. Fully equipped with heavy armor and weapons, and a computer chip implant in its brain, the behemoth was without a doubt the most lethal thing that Umbrella had ever engineered.
Unfortunately, that behemoth was now intent on killing the dynamic duo.
An enormous rocket launcher detached itself from the beast's back, and the beast took aim and fired at the S.T.A.R.S. members.
The agents dove out of the way just in time, the rocket slamming into the wall behind them with an explosive thump. They wasted no time and opened fire on T-A.L.O.S.
The monster was thrown by the fire of the heavy machine guns that the S.T.A.R.S. agents fired at them. Finally succumbing to the gunfire, T-A.L.O.S. fell to its knees, seemingly defeated.
Chris scoffed. "That was easy."
But it was not so.
The many cables that surrounded T-A.L.O.S. came to life, snaking around the tenacious BOW. Picking him up off the ground, the cables lifted T-A.L.O.S. high in the air. Roaring, the behemoth set about killing the dynamic duo once more.
Only one thought ran through Chris' mind.
Shit.
T-A.L.O.S. also acquired a new attack, apparently. The monster fired a series of five laser beams at the duo, narrowly missing them and burning a hole in the wall behind them.
Chris immediately saw a way to end the battle. After telling Jill his plan, he put it into action.
Chris dove from cover, much to the delight of the persistent BOW. He yelled, "OVER HERE! KILL ME!"
T-A.L.O.S. was only too happy to oblige. Firing a series of lasers at the man, T-A.L.O.S. sensed that victory was imminent.
T-A.L.O.S. was dead wrong.
Chris dove out of the way, revealing his true plan. He had stood in front of the hole in the wall where the cables snaked from. After he dove out of the way, the lasers hit the naked wires, easily slicing through them.
T-A.L.O.S. emitted one final roar, then fell from his position and lay still on the floor. Umbrella's little secret was finally dead.
Wasting no time the S.T.A.R.S. members set the charges, then hightailed it to the outside of the facility.
They climbed into the escape helicopter, just as the timer reached zero.
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EPILOGUE
Ozwell E. Spencer was a very old man, who needed servants to attend to his every need. Sometimes, those servants would try something funny, and they would have to be "disposed of."
Spencer had just "disposed of" one of those servants. Now, he needed to remove that person's personnel file from the Umbrella database.
Summoning one of his many other servants, he motioned toward the laptop across the room. The man hurriedly ran over to get it for him.
With the machine in his hands, Spencer pulled up the login screen. Spencer entered his username and password, then clicked the login button. A simple monochrome screen appeared on the laptop:
U.M.F.-013
NO DATA
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I would like to thank Chaed and all the reviewers for keeping me going, and Mac Daddy for the encouragement and random facts. In this story, I used the writing styles of L. Loire, S.D. Perry, and Macarthur Inbody. Without them, this story wouldn't have been the same.
Remember: To read is human, to review, divine.
Until next time,
Adam Nickels
"We mortals are but shadows and dust. Death is continuously staring us in the face. All a man can do is smile right back."
Proximo, Gladiator