Chapter 25: A Time For Answers
October 2, 1998
8:00 PM
Saint Jude's Hospital, Parking Lot
Saint Jude's went up like a matchstick only moments after the group bolted through the front doors, the resulting shockwave throwing the small group to the asphalt. Zeke threw his arms over his head as he felt the flames lick at his skin, glass and smoldering chunks of metal raining down on him from above as the earth trembled below. The roar of the explosion seemed to last an eternity but gradually the shower of debris ceased, the heat receded and was replaced by the cool October air and the ground stopped its violent roiling.
Rolling slowly onto his back, the Ranger gazed up at what was left of the hospital. Only the bare bones of the structure remained, blackened and smoking as the inferno continued to feed off the innards of the building. The whole sky was alight with an eerie orange-yellow glow the building that had once been Saint Jude's Hospital was now a torch burning against the blackness of the night. And a definite signal for any of Raccoon's creepy crawlies as to where they could find a warm meal.
Coughing and spluttering, the others rose up beside Lieutenant Wilcott, staring at the flaming wreckage with a mixture of relief and fright etched into their faces. If they had been three seconds slower, if he had argued with Wesley a moment longer – the sound of running footsteps cut off Zeke's train of thought. Turning, he saw Burke charging away across the parking lot, glancing back at the ruins of Saint Jude's with an expression of sheer terror. Zeke scowled as he gave chase, swearing he'd bring the man down hard for making him have to run.
It didn't take long for him to catch up to the fleeing doctor; Burke was not in poor shape but he couldn't match the strides of an Army Ranger. The physician cried out as Zeke grabbed hold of his shoulders and swung him back roughly, Burke's head cracking against the pavement. Before he could stop himself, Zeke was drawing his pistol and wedging the barrel beneath Burke's chin. All he could think of was Rachel, her pale, bruised face flashing over and over through his mind's eye. She was hurt – dying – and now strangers held her hostage, men who had tried to kill him. Zeke was tired of all the confusion, of having to ask questions, it was a time for answers now.
The lieutenant had once compared Gregory Burke to a mountain: solid, immoveable. That mountain certainly seemed to have crumbled to dust now, with Zeke holding him down and a gun to his head. Burke seemed more like a lab rat now: confused, frightened and desperately trying to find a way out of the maze it had stumbled into.
"Start talking, Burke!" Zeke snarled atop the pinned man, dimly aware that the others had encircled him now. "You know who those guys that ambushed us were, didn't you? You mentioned Umbrella. What did they have to do with this? Answer me!"
Some courage must have still remained in the man though as he fixed the Ranger with a defiant stare. "I'm not telling you a thing, lieutenant!" He spat. "You won't kill me."
"No?" Zeke asked and felt ashamed when he realized the man was right. Even after everything he had been through – even after Burke's betrayal – he still couldn't bring himself to harm a defenseless, middle-aged doctor…even if he did know where Rachel was being taken. Ezekiel Wilcott was no murderer. Of course, Burke doesn't know that.
"No, I won't kill you, Burke," Zeke said, making his voice ice, his eyes like winter's heart, "but I'll make you wish you were dead. Every time I ask you a question and you don't give me an answer I'll put a bullet somewhere that will really sting. I've got nine rounds to a clip and, trust me, there are plenty of spots on the human body that hurt like a bitch when a round of molten lead gets pushed through them."
Burke must have seen the frost in Zeke's eyes, felt the chill in his tone because he swallowed deep and lowered his eyes. Beads of sweat broke out along his wrinkled forehead, the silvery light of the moon bringing out the doctor's suddenly pale complexion. Still a shred of defiance remained in him though.
"I'm not afraid of you," he fired back, his shaky tone belying his words. "You're an American soldier, there's rules you and your men have to follow. You can't hurt me, lieutenant."
Smug bastard, Zeke thought, looking up at those surrounding him. Their faces were all dirty and dark, their eyes filled with accusation and betrayal as they stared down at Burke. Even young Skip looked at the man as if he would like to be the one pressing the gun to his chin. It was time to up the psychological warfare, Burke would find no mercy among this bunch.
"You're forgetting something, Burke," Zeke said, his voice like tempered iron, "we've been written off back home. You heard Scott say so back in the van. That means we've got nothing left to lose and, besides, who says we ever met a Greg Burke anyways? Do any of you boys remember running into a Greg Burke here?"
"Never heard of him." Cooper said almost as coldly as Zeke.
"Greg who?" Wesley asked, a small smile creeping across his face.
"No, sir." Scott said, sounding nervous but managing to keep his voice steady. "Never heard of the guy."
Ryan simply shook his head; face a blank slate. Somehow that expression of casual indifference seemed to scare Burke the worst. He whimpered and began to cry openly.
"Time is wasting, Burke!" Zeke said, pulling the hammer back on the .45. The man's display was pathetic but the lieutenant's disgusting lasted only a moment before concern for Rachel pushed it aside. She was all that meant anything now. He would die to get her back. He pressed the gun to Burke's leg. "The first round is going through your knee, Doc! Tell me what Umbrella has to do with this! Stop whining and answer me! I swear I'll keep shooting parts off until I run out of bullets, Burke, and then I'll hand you over to Shank. The way I understand it, he'd like a word with you."
"You're responsible for getting four of my pals killed." The biker said, his face as hard and frigid as Ryan's. "As a doctor you should know that there are seven natural openings in the human body. Well, Doc, if you don't tell the L.T. what he wants to know then I'll make sure to carve you an eighth."
Burke looked from the stone of Shank's face to the fire in Zeke's eyes and back again. He was panting hard, sweating profusely, the last of his resolve being dissolved by fear of the consequences for remaining silent. With a ragged, defeated wail Burke began to talk, words spilling out of him in a rush between sobs.
"Umbrella engineered the whole thing!" He screamed, eyes closed with tears streaming down his face. "It was all an experiment…w-we called it the R-Raccoon Project. M-myself and a f-few others w-were supposed to monitor the outbreak a-and collect d-data on the carriers. P-please, I didn't know it was going to be like this! I didn't know!"
"What do you mean Umbrella engineered the whole thing?" Zeke asked, quirking an eyebrow and then realization hit and his heart skipped a beat. "Are you saying they designed the Raccoon Syndrome and released it?"
"N-no," Burke stammered still weeping, "the release was accidental – I-I think – but t-the Raccoon Syndrome…it's really c-called the T-T-Tyrant Virus!" The last was delivered in a huff as if it required a great deal of strength for Burke to relinquish such information. "It's a bio-weapon. A-all the creatures you've seen tonight a-are products of it. Th-the zombies too. Umbrella owns this city though s-so when t-the spill happened they decided t-to turn it into an opportunity."
"He's nuts, lieutenant," Eddie broke in angrily. "Umbrella is the King and Crown Prince of the business world. What do they gain through mass murder? If you want to boost sales you don't kill a hundred thousand innocent people."
Burke laughed, the hysterical whooping cackle of a madman. "You're wrong, Officer Gabbor, death is a very profitable business. The T-virus has the capacity to regenerate dead cells, it could make a man virtually immortal if it was not so unstable."
Christ, Zeke thought unable to speak, if their using it as a biological weapon then that means…"Super soldiers." He mused softly and Burke nodded.
"That's the aim, yes," the doctor replied his eyes darting about frantically as the Ranger pinned him down. "Just think about how much the government – any government – would be willing to pay for something that made their armed forces almost invincible. The whole company doesn't even know about the existence of the Tyrant Project, only White Umbrella members. Now, please let me up. We have to get out of here before those things show up."
Zeke ignored the man, allowing his words to fully sink in. The most powerful corporation in perhaps the entire history of the world was manufacturing biological weapons through some secret sect within their own corporate body. Not just any biological weapon though but one that turned every living organism it touched into a bloodthirsty killing machine. Lieutenant Wilcott had heard the term corporate malfeasance before but if what Burke said was true then malfeasance didn't even begin to touch the surface of what Umbrella had done. They had released their deadly concoction on American citizens just to see how long it would take their monsters to tear everyone to ribbons. Evil barely touched the surface of their actions.
"Jesus." Kathy and Skip breathed in unison, but Zeke doubted Jesus had anything to do with Raccoon City anymore.
"The paramilitary team," Zeke said, snapping back to the present, "who are they? Did Umbrella send them?"
Again, Burke hesitated before answering. Torn between his loyalty to the company and his desire not to take a bullet in the knee no doubt. Sniffling, Burke made the right choice and nodded his head. Zeke idly wondered what the punishment for revealing Umbrella's secrets was within the corporation. Something horrible, certainly, if the man was still able to resist with a gun to his leg and a furious Ranger staring at him with murder in his eyes.
"Yes," Burke answered, his sobs choking his voice, his broken nose making him sound nasal and stuffed up. "Umbrella sent them. They're the Bio-Ordinance Neutralization and Elimination Squad – a B.O.N.E.S. team – special forces. Umbrella uses them as cleaners and security mostly. Please, I've told you all I know. We have to go before – "
"Where are they taking Rachel? Why did they destroy the hospital?" Cleaners? Does that mean there have been more accidents, more spills of this…Tyrant Virus? Zeke didn't even want to contemplate the possibility. Just knowing that such a thing existed was too much.
"W-we were working on…on a different strain of the T-virus in the sub-basement," Burke explained, nervously chewing his lower lip until blood glistened on it in the light of the flames. "Umbrella must have ordered them to destroy all traces of the research – maybe even the sample itself."
"And Rachel?" Wesley asked, his eyes shimmering like coals as the firelight danced across his face.
"I-I don't know where they're taking the girl." Zeke pressed the pistol deeper into Burke's knee and the man shrieked his horror, bursting into tears again. Then, miraculously, the doctor seemed to have a sudden recollection. "Wait! T-they must be taking her to the AMRS. It's t-the only other p-place in the city they would have any interest in. Please…don't shoot me!" Burke's words turned into a senseless babble as he wept bitterly.
"What's the AMRS, Burke?" Zeke asked then snarled and shook the man when he failed to respond quickly enough. This was taking too long, giving these B.O.N.E.S. soldiers too much time to gain ground, giving Rachel's injuries too much time to catch up with her. Giving the creatures lurking in the darkness too much time to find them. "Tell me, Burke!"
"The Arklay Mountain Research Station!" The doctor wailed. "It's a facility owned by Umbrella. All on going projects in Raccoon have to report their findings to the staff there monthly if they want to continue to receive funding from the head office. Umbrella wouldn't risk any of those documents being found – even one word from them could be enough to incriminate all the board members." Suddenly, Burke's eyes turned pleading and he clutched the lieutenant's shoulder with one hand. "We could get away there. There'd be helicopters on the roof…and an underground trolley if they're already gone. We could all get away."
"That's more or less what the fucker said about this place," Shank gestured vaguely to the flaming wreckage crumbling behind him, "and we nearly all got barbequed. I say we screw what he says about this secret lab – or whatever the fuck it is – take the van, ram through one of the barricades and keep on trucking till this place is nothing more than a speck in the rearview mirror."
"I'm not leaving without Rachel." Zeke said firmly, standing up and holstering his pistol, leaving Burke to clutch his face and weep. The lieutenant looked around at all the other faces then – dirty, scared and pained – he hung his head and sighed. "None of you have to come with me though. These are hardly normal circumstances so I won't hold it against anyone for leaving – even my own people – I've hardly been doing a bang up job at running things around here. Personally, I think knocking down a barricade and making a run for it would be the safest course of action compared to what I'm about to try."
Wesley was the first to shake his head, a rueful grin on his face. "If anyone can get us out of this bloody pisshole it's you. We're with you until the end, Zeke, one way or another." The other Rangers formed up behind him and nodded. Zeke felt a flush of pride: they were his men – but one of them was a traitor – possibly working for Umbrella – he couldn't afford to forget that.
"Well," Skip shrugged, "it's not like I've got anything better to do for the rest of the night so I might as well just hang out with you guys for the time being."
Kathryn sighed and actually managed a small grin. "I figure there's still a lot of work to be done before we get out of here so I might as well stick with you guys and let you do all the heavy lifting. I'm in."
"You had better believe me and Tech are with you, L.T." Shank added right on her heels, adjusting the strap of the M-4 that now rested on his shoulder. "These Umbrella nutslappers killed four of our brothers so if I want payback I figure you're the guy to be around." Tech nodded enthusiastically beside his companion.
Zeke turned to stare at Officer Gabbor. "What about you Eddie?"
Tonguing his cheek, the young officer shifted his eyes over each member of the group all looking back with their features set in expressions of unshakable determination. Finally, Eddie blew out a long breath and threw his hands in the air.
"Fine," he said at last sounding halfway between anger and mirth, "I suppose if we're all going to die here we might as well do it together – make things efficient. Besides, you clowns will probably need me before the night's done. It's hell being lucky." He sighed and Shank laughed.
Maybe they all were a little crazy, Zeke thought as he studied their faces and nodded his approval, but they all had to make their own decisions. They had seen how many had lost their lives with him steering the ship and still they trusted him. They were definitely a little crazy. So are you but who cares? Stop wasting time and start working on finding Rachel.
Hauling Burke up by his collar, Zeke tossed the doctor roughly into the closed doors of the SWAT van and held him in place. "The research station, how do I find it?" He demanded.
Burke winced before answering. "It's in the Arklay Forest. I-I can direct you there."
"Fuck that!" Shank spat. "I wouldn't trust this rat if he told me the sky was blue."
"No time to argue, boss." Coop said from a short distance. Shuffling footsteps and gurgling moans drawing near confirmed the corporal's words. It was time to be off.
"I say we leave the son of a bitch for those things," Tech said, sneering as always, pulling the Glock from his waistband, "but first we take out his legs."
Burke squeaked something incomprehensible and groped at the lieutenant's wrist. Until that moment, Zeke had no idea a man could sweat so much or his eyebrows could climb so high. He smacked Burke's hand away roughly, pushing his head up against the door and staring into his watery eyes.
"Zeke Wilcott is no murderer." He said coldly before pulling open one door and stuffing the emotionally shattered Greg Burke into the back. Zeke hoped he wouldn't have to remind himself of that fact again.
The others followed after him quickly, Eddie climbing into the driver's seat, the soulless, hungry cries drifting along the night air adding to their haste. Shank hopped in last, wrapping a meaty paw around Burke's throat and slamming his head back into the wall.
"If you're lying to us again, you little shitstain," he growled as Burke clawed at his wrist to no avail, "I'll make you regret the first day your mother looked at your father."
Shank took his seat as Skip drew the doors shut and Eddie got them moving again. As the van rumbled off into the night, Zeke stared across at Burke as he rubbed at his neck and called out directions to the front of the van. If he was lying then Rachel was as good as dead. If he was lying then it would be Zeke Wilcott who made him regret his birth. Shank will just have to take a number and get in line. Zeke thought the Psycho would understand if it came to that.
Author's Note: A new chapter for you my Readers. Please read and review when you get the chance, I want to know what/who you like/dislike as always. Check for another update within a week or two. Thank you for reading and don't forget to drop a review. Enjoy!