Chapter 18: A Friend In Need

October 2, 1998

2:00 AM

Precient 24

William Brown had long considered his office more of a trophy room than a place for filing paper work and filling out reports. The space served as a shrine to his personal triumphs, the walls above his desk and the blue sofa in the corner were plastered with plaques he had received at the academy or commendation medals he had been awarded after graduating. The small coffee table in the center of the floor was decorated with the sparkling gold and silver trophies he had won during his days playing college football for the Raccoon Sharks. For Captain Brown the gleaming medals and polished trophies had always been sources of inspiration and pride – now he could think of them only as meaningless trinkets, useless husks of metal arranged in tacky, self-indulgent displays.

His pride – like his city – was in flames, crumbling to ash. So many of the citizens he had sworn to serve and protect now lay dead – or worse, transformed into walking corpses doomed to hunger for human flesh until they, too, crumbled to dust and ashes. William wondered how many people – people he had once known as acquaintances or friends – he had killed that night because if he had not they would have killed him. William wondered how many more he would have to kill yet.

'Just one more,' he thought wanly, watching the scene in front of him, 'just one more that really matters.'

Jacob Foster, his best friend since the two of them were old enough to walk and talk, was dying. He lay stretched out on the couch in William's office, eyes rolling lazily about the ceiling as he mumbled in delirium while his wife kneeled at his side, clutching one hand in between her own.

Balling one meaty hand into a tight fist William felt his heart rise into his throat – he thought he might choke on it. Knowing what he was about to do – because he had to do it – was difficult enough but watching Tessa stroke back her husband's damp bangs and murmur words of encouragement in his ear made matters even more complicated. The captain was almost certain he would choke on his heart, if it didn't burst in his throat first.

'It's not all bad though.' William thought somberly, looking on dumbly as Tessa tried to quiet Foster's gibberish with gentle smiles and soft touches. All in vain, he knew, all in vain. 'At least I managed to keep Sam away from here – and the other guys for that matter. I'm surprised sneaking away was as easy as it was. Funny how luck can really pick its moments.'

While it had been fairly simple to relegate duties to Sam Brocket and the rest of his men to keep them occupied, Will knew splitting up Tessa and Jake was just not an option. Thought he would have preferred she was not present for what was about to take place one needed to take only a single look at the woman to see it would take much more than a crowbar to pry Tessa Foster from her husband's side. Ever since his return to the station Tess had not left Jacob alone for a moment; she was everywhere he was, grasping his hand desperately and staring at his ashen face with pained, pleading eyes.

'It's something I'll just have to deal with.' William told himself, trying to block out the words Jacob's wife was speaking: talk about how they would go on a vacation when they got out of the city, how she had family the could stay with in Colorado until they found another house – how they could finally make good on their plans to have a baby. Yes, his heart would definitely burst long before it had a chance to strangle him.

'Maybe she won't even fight me,' the thought was dark and cold but at least it helped to dilute Tessa's voice – making it seem distant as if part of a TV show playing in the background, rather than hard, unforgiving reality. 'She can see how far gone Jake is. Maybe she won't fight me when she finds out why I had him come up here…maybe she'll think I'm doing him a favor…just helping out a friend in need.' Shaking his head, William scowled. 'Yeah, fat chance of that happening but it's the only way. Christ, how did it ever come to this?'

"What's wrong with him, Bill?" Tessa's soft, shaking voice pulled the captain back into the misery of the present. Looking up from where he was leaning against the doorframe William studied the woman who had prepared him dinner so many times, who had slapped him upside the head when he had place his feet atop her coffee table and who had cried the hardest when his wife, Ellie, lost the fight against cancer five years ago.

Tessa's eyes were wide and red, exhausted after having shed so many tears. Her hair, always neatly combed and pulled back hung in disarray about her shoulders, unruly tufts of black locks jutting out at every angle. The hand that held Jacob's shook like a leaf in the wind. William sighed.

"I-I don't know, Tess." He said, pushing off the wall and crouching beside the woman. In a sense, his words were true – no one really knew how this mystery disease, this Raccoon Syndrome, turned ordinary people into flesh eating monsters. The thought made the burly captain all too aware of the fact that neither of them should be as close to Foster as they were. "Sam said one of those…those things outside bit him back at the road block."

'And thank God he's not here now.' William thought. 'The way he's been skulking about you'd think he was the one that bit Jake. No, that guy's seen enough killing for a lifetime – and he'll probably see more once we reach the garage – he doesn't need to be here for this.'

"Does…does that mean he's sick?" Tess asked, sniffing loudly, gently stroking a finger across Foster's knuckles. He responded with a heavy grunt, one leg jerking violently. "Does it mean that he's going to…to…to turn into one of them?"

"I don't know but Doctor Burke seems to think so." William said, breaking the news as tenderly as he could and discovering in the process that there was simply no gentle way to tell someone that a loved one would turn into a mindless cannibal before the sun came up. "He thinks that's how this thing spread so fast. It's the bites – they take them away and they bring them back." 'As murdering zombies. Jesus, I'm so sorry Jake.'

Will caught Tessa around the shoulders as she lowered her face into both hands, fresh sobs assailing her. Truly, he hadn't meant it to sound so harsh but there was no sense in trying to sugar coat it either. Jacob Foster was going to die.

Idly stroking Tessa's soft hair with the back of his hand William glanced up at Jacob. His friend's face was closed tightly, eyes clenched and lips turned back, obviously in great pain. Sweat soaked every inch of exposed skin and matted his short hair to his scalp. Foster's chest rose and fell each strained, irregular breath – each one a fight. The man was dying and only months ago he had been joking with William over the weather and the eccentric personality of Chief Irons and a host of other things that now seemed as meaningless as the captain's collection of trophies.

While Tubbs' physical suffering must have been great the captain suspected that, emotionally, Tessa was in worse shape. Surely she must have expected the nature of her husband's fate the moment he arrived but to have such frightening suspicions confirmed had to be shattering. Listening to the woman weeping in his arms William thought that maybe "shattering" was far too delicate a word for the current situation.

"There has to be something they can do for him!" Tessa shouted, pushing away from William and looking up at him with those deep, pleading eyes, begging him for a shred of hope. "There must be something Burke can think of. He studied this disease didn't he? He worked at Saint Jude's so he must have. He has to know something more about it than we do! There's a cure isn't there – even if it's just experimental? Something? Anything?"

"In a manner of speaking," William muttered into his bread, eyes fixed on Foster's waxy visage, "there is."

"What do you mean?" Tessa asked, sounding more afraid than hopeful. William wagered she knew the answer he would give even before he gave it.

For a moment – a long moment at that – he merely stared into Tessa's watery, trembling brown eyes. Desperately, Will searched his brain for some other option – another way, any other way around the only solution he had been able to up with. Any alternative would have been preferable to the one had drawn up but his mind was a blank. 'There is no other way.' Sighing deeply, William drew the Glock strapped to his hip.

"It's the only way." He said.

"William!" Tessa's bloodshot eyes grew even wider, her chin dropping her chest. "No! No, he's my husband! He's your friend, William!"

"Don't you think I know that?" William retorted, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "Please Tessa, if there was another way – any other way – I'd do everything in my power to try it but there's not. Believe me, I've thought long and hard about this and there just isn't any other option left. Look at your husband – look at him! – at least let him die while he's still human…" William could feel tears burning in the back of his eyes as he turned his gaze to the ruined vessel of Jacob Foster. "….while he's still Jake."

"No." Tessa replied plainly, stretching herself out across her husband's chest, tears rolling unchecked down her mahogany cheeks. "I'm not going to give up on him. He's mine, you can't take him from me!" The rest of her words were lost in a mangled sob as she buried her face in the material of Jacob's vest. He moaned, arching his back.

"Please Tessa, there's nothing more any of us can do for Jake now – except end his suffering." The captain could hear his own words but surely they must have been spoken by someone else out of sight. The William Brown he knew would never speak those words – so cold and callous – about anyone, let alone a man he had known since childhood, a man he loved as a brother. This whole thing had to be one long, wretched nightmare, he thought but no matter how hard he beat against the glass of the illusion it simply would not break.

"No!" Tess screamed again, her body quivering as she wept bitterly into Jacob's chest, clutching handfuls of his vest in both hands. "I won't let you hurt him, William!"

"Tessa – " Captain Brown was cut short as Foster inhaled deeply, arching his back at a sharp angle that sent his wife reeling back with a strangled yelp. Jacob spasmed wildly, jerking left then right – once, twice a third time before finally collapsing in a heap on the couch. The squat officer exhaled a soft, nearly in audible hiss and then he was perfectly still. His chest did not rise.

As Tessa quickly clambered back to a sitting position beside the sofa, grabbing Jacob's shoulders and calling his name in a voice far too tiny for her sturdy frame, William looked on in muted shock. All the creatures – all the zombies – he had seen that night had already been walking around. Was that how the transformation took place, he wondered staring at Foster's still body while Tessa pleaded with him to speak to her, one moment of sharp agony before the cannibalistic urges took hold of mind and body? Watching Tess wail and beat at Jacob's chest, demanding he return to her, William knew he should tell her to get back, to get away from Jacob but the captain felt as if he had just swallowed his own tongue.

'Maybe he won't get back up. Maybe he won't turn into one of them.' Will thought wishfully as he found the strength to take a step towards the hysterical woman. 'Maybe there's only a chance of infection or something. Please God don't let him come back as one of them, I don't want to have to kill him!' It was a hopeful thought but everything William had experienced that night told him he should know better.

"Tessa," he said at last, the words rolling awkwardly off his tongue at first but coming more easily as he went on. "Get away from Jacob. He's dangerous now."

"No!" She screamed defiantly, protectively – as if meaning to defend her husband even in death – turning her burning, broken gaze on William. "No! He'd never hurt me!"

"You don't understand." Captain Brown scoffed, losing his patience and feeling his anxiety rise as he took another step towards Tessa. How long did they have before the resurrection – before husband and friend would become mindless killer? A minute, minute and a half? "Just get away from him. He's not Jacob anymore!"

"I'm not leaving him, William!" She shouted, fires burning in the depths of her worn eyes. Tessa vaulted to her feet, flinging herself at the sunned captain and slapping him hard across his jaw. "How dare you do this, William! How dare you ask me to leave him! I won't, I tell you, I won…"

Springs creaked and groaned their protest as Jacob Foster sat up. With all the enthusiasm of an automaton he gazed slowly up then down, before turning his eyes – glazed over and obscured by a milky white film – to where William and Tessa stood gaping dumbfounded. 'Oh, God no.' With a cry – a feral, animal roar – Foster threw himself at his friend, baring his teeth.

"Run!" William screamed to Tessa, shoving her roughly across the room while raising his handgun.

The captain turned just in time, face gaping with horror as Jacob drove his shoulder into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs and the floor from beneath his feet. Uttering a strangled gasp, William was dimly aware of his back hitting the ground and his head with it. Stars of brilliant red and purple hues burst before his eyes, fading in a moment to be replaced by the dead white eyes of a man who had once been William Brown's closest friend.

His survival instincts taking over, Will extended his arms, wrapping thick paws around Jacob's equally thick neck. Terrified by the realization that if he let go – even for a second – Jake would try and take a bite out of his jugular William fought back with every ounce of strength he possessed, trying to force more distance between himself and Foster's wildly gnashing teeth. Unfortunately his friend had not been a small man to begin with and whatever demon had taken him over in death lent the man surprising strength.

"Jacob!" Tessa cried from out of sight, William could hear the tears in her voice – and the impossible fear.

"Get out of here!" Captain Brown bellowed, his face creased in determination as he grappled with his attacker. Every muscle in his body tensed to hold off whatever Jacob Foster had become. The creature – his friend – moaned his irritation. "Get Zeke!"

'She doesn't even know who Zeke is.' William thought, it dawning on him that he had never had a chance to introduce her to the Ranger lieutenant. 'Eaten alive by my best friend, what the fuck is happening in this city!'

As strong as he was, William knew pushing Foster away would not be an option – the man had become an immoveable object. He needed a weapon but the Glock had jumped from his fingers when he had been tackled and William didn't dare risk taking a moment to look around for it now though, he was barely able to keep Jacob at bay with his full concentration poured into the task. 'I left my MP5 leaning against the doorframe though. It shouldn't be too hard to reach – if I was ten feet closer anyways.'

Deciding it was better than nothing William started his sluggish crawl backwards towards the door, grunting and groaning, groping behind him blindly with one hand while using the other to keep Foster's jaws from closing around his throat. Plush carpet and cold flooring passed beneath the captain's probing fingertips, the empty moans of his friend filled his ears. More hardwood brushed his hands and then William could feel the flaking paint of the doorframe, he grimaced as warm drool splashed the side of his face. William searched along the side of the door with his hand, feeling relief flood him as metal passed beneath his touch – the trigger guard of his weapon.

'I'm sorry Jake. I'm so goddamn sorry.' William thought, reaching for his submachine gun – and feeling his heart pause when he heard the weapon clatter to the ground, out of reach and out of sight. "Shit!"

Turning his eyes back on Foster, sickened by the stringy rivulets of saliva hanging from the man's chin, William felt his strength waning. His muscles were aflame, rapidly burning to dust in the wake of Jacob's unholy might. That he could no longer hold out the captain knew, just as he knew that Jacob Foster – his buddy and pal – was about to be responsible for his death. With a final defiant cry of anguish and outrage, William felt his hold give out.

Foster moaned, a wet rumbling sound in the pit of his throat and Will winced, preparing to feel the unimaginable pain as another human being tore his throat out. That wet, rumbling sound grew louder, filtering into the captain's ear – and was obliterated as a gunshot resounded in the office. Jacob jerked to the right and fell limp.

Amazed to find himself still breathing, William cracked one eye open. Foster lay half-slumped across his body, a small hole in the back of his head dribbling blood down through his curly black locks. Scrambling to his feet the captain took in a deep, shuddering breath, stumbling back until the solid weight of the door halted his steps. Tearing his eyes away from Jacob's corpse, William came face to face with his savior. Tessa Foster stood over the body of her husband looking as if she had just seen a ghost – William's pistol smoking in her trembling hands.

"Jesus." Will breathed, staring at the deathly pale woman and feeling the blood drain from his face. 'She just killed her own husband.' For a second, the captain thought the sheer insanity of the thought might be enough to finally push him over the edge into madness. "Tessa…oh my God, oh God. Tess, I-I'm so sorry. It's my fault…I'm so sorry."

The woman seemed not to hear, merely staring at the body of her dead husband, the handgun finally tumbling from her quivering hands to the floor below. Weeping overtook Tessa, making her whole body quake as the force of her torment took hold and she fell to the ground beside the man she had loved. Lowering her face into her hands Tessa wailed as she cried – a scream of torture and remorse – a noise that threatened to wrench even William Brown's heart from his chest.

"Tessa," the captain said gently, edging towards the woman slowly but recoiled when she turned her eyes on him. The woman's face was a pale, tear-streaked mask of death and anguish.

"Get away from me!" She shrieked. "Leave us alone!"

William staggered back as if struck, transferring his horrified gaze to Jacob. "Tubbs" Foster lay dead; his white eyes open and fixed on the wall in front of him, saliva dripping out onto the carpet from the corner of his mouth. Choking back a sob of his own, William reached down and closed his friends unseeing eyes before scooping up the Glock that lay beside him.

"I'm sorry, Jake." William mumbled, only dimly aware that he had spoken. "I'm sorry for everything."

Tessa continued to weep and wail, forming a wordless lament for the dead as William retrieved his submachine gun and stepped through the door out into the main hall. What sense was there in trying to console the woman? What meager words could he offer that would sweep away the knowledge that she had shot and killed a man she had sworn to love unto death? Her grief was a maelstrom and his words mere dust. All there was left to do was inform the others that Jacob Foster was no more – another life claimed by the madness of Raccoon City.

'I'll see you soon Jake.' William thought, unable to stop the tears flowing down his face. He didn't mind, he couldn't even feel their moisture – his whole body seemed crafted of ice now. 'I understand now. All there's left to do in this place is die. I'm sorry for everything but I'll see you real soon.'

Looking out over the sea of confused and frightened faces William took in a breath and blew it out. "Jacob Foster," he began slowly, "is dead."

'All that's left to do is die.' Will found the thought oddly comforting.

Author's Note: Here's the new update, Readers. I hope you enjoy and look for another one soon. Please read and review when you get the chance, your feedback is much desired and appreciated. Thank you and enjoy.