Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.

Warning: Nothing

Authors Note: Hey guys, just as a heads up, this will be the last chapter for a little while. I know I said I would update every 10 days, but University and such is swamping me with school work, as well as my beta. So while the chapters are done (up to chapter 40, actually) it takes a while for corrections and editing. So I'm going to update the story next time a little later. It will not be too late (not a month or anything) but it might be about 2 weeks until another update appears in your inbox! Please respect the fact that both my Beta and I are busy, and don't get all antsy when I don't update in 10 days! And once again, thank you for your support! I really, really appreciate it!

Chapter 33- Luck

Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. ~Seneca~

There were three new bodies.

They hadn't all shown up on the same day, nor were they clumped together. But they all had the same story to go along with them.

Found in or just outside the forest at Raccoon, mutilated beyond recognition, and bite marks riddling the body. Victims were apparently eaten.

The story that had been told time and time again by the police was that it was wild dogs—vicious pack animals in the forest around the city that had rabies and little to no restraint. It would make sense if you were simply hearing about the case through a second-hand source. After all, no human would ever think of cannibalising someone—would they?

It made perfect sense. Just stay out of the woods until animal control can go in to capture and then euthanize the animals before they infected any other creatures... or kill anyone else. Soon, the deaths, though horrific in nature, would be out of the papers, the fear out of the hearts of Racoon citizens, and the headaches gone for all of those who worked on the case.

Perfect sense.

Of course, it wouldn't make perfect sense if you had seen the bodies, noticed the claw marks that looked like finger nails, and seen the decidedly human bite marks riddling the body of the hiker.

"This is bullshit."

"What is?" Jill asked, looking up from her pop-tart to stare at Chris from across the break room table.

Tossing the newspaper down on the table, Chris sent Jill a frustrated look as his arms crossed over his chest. "The fucking murder cases, that's what! Another body showed up last night, Jill! Another person is dead because the fucking RPD thinks that it's not a top priority case. They think they've figured it all out, when clearly something else is going on."

Snapping her pop-tart in half, Jill fiddled with a corner as she listened to Chris, an eyebrow slowly raising. When he had finished, she had crumbled up the corner completely, leaving her fingers coated in sweet pastry.

"Chris—since when did we deal with high profile deaths like that? We're a SWAT team, not investigators," she said, although there was clearly some vexation coursing through her words. She was feeling the tension as well.

Ever since the first body had popped up, the RPD had begun to feel... strange. The atmosphere was no longer friendly and open, with conversations carrying through the hallways and friendly waves passed out like candy. Instead, there was a divide occurring between all of the different units—including STARS. It was almost uncommon to speak to someone who you didn't technically work with. There were hushed whispers in the hallways, icy looks and awkward shifting in the break room, and tension that was felt by everyone.

Chris didn't know why everything had changed, but there was a definite shift in the air—a strong sense of foreboding coursing through the city.

Things had gotten even worse when allegations of illegal taxidermy against the Chief came about, just around the same time the city was having its own legal battle with the zoo and illegal flower distribution. Just as the city needed a leader, someone to guide the people, everything had begun to collapse, leaving the cracks in the walls apparent.

"I'm just getting sick and tired of sitting on our hands while more people die and the city starts to tear itself apart," Chris said, his jaw clenching. He'd been holding his stress in his jaw, and actually had to go to the dentist the other day to get it checked out. He was told to stop it, but it wasn't working out too well.

With the stress of the dead bodies, the lack of real information, and of course Wesker's dick attitude, Chris had begun to wonder if he was going crazy. He wasn't getting any sleep at night, and was spending most of the time tossing and turning, trying to calm himself down. It wasn't like he could do anything at the moment.

As soon as they got back to the office after the first body appeared, Wesker pulled them from the case just as soon as he had brought them in. He gave little explanation, but made it very clear they were not to get themselves involved. It was up for the investigators and those involved with the forensic unit to deal with—not STARS.

But Chris was getting more and more frustrated with the job that the murder investigators were doing. Now, not only was Wesker lying to him, but his damn job was too. There was something more—much more—to the case than what first appeared, and Chris was determined to find the truth.

He was sick of just taking it for face value—sick of trusting other people without wondering why or asking how.

"I... I know how you feel, Chris. But we need to back off for now. I want to know what's going on just as much as you do, but we can't do anything reckless."

"Why? Why can't we do something extreme? People need to know that this isn't a simple 'dog has rabies and decides to go bat shit insane' case," he growled out, feeling the urge to rip up the newspaper ever increasing. If only he didn't have to clean it up after...

"Chris, if we go out there and start demanding things that aren't ours to demand, not only are we going to look like nut jobs, but we could also lose our jobs. And then where would that put us? Even further from working on the case, that's where. No, we should sit back, try and stay sane, and work on what we've been assigned to."

Frowning, Chris sent Jill a look before fiddling with his newspaper. What she said made a lot of sense, but it did little to ease the knotted feeling in his gut. "I just wish we could get in there and see the case files, at least—read what the coroner had to say and maybe—"

Chris immediately stopped talking when two regular cops walked into the room, empty coffee mugs in their hands. Staring at them, Chris watched as they sent him an icy look before getting their coffee. The two sat down awkwardly at a table near the soda machine, the discomfort getting to the better of all four of them.

Staring at her hands, Jill coughed softly before standing up, Chris following suit. "Let's get back to work."

Nodding, Chris sent the two cops one last look before following Jill out of the room. Chris spent the walk down to the STARS office trying to shake off the unease he was feeling. Every time he walked down the hallways now, he felt like there was someone watching him—like he wasn't even safe to talk about anything too personal in fear he was being recorded.

The RPD had become a place he didn't want to be at anymore.

"I think we should go out for dinner soon. You, Barry, Brad, and I. Relax a little and just talk about other things," Jill began as they headed up a flight of stairs. Passing the ladies' washroom, Chris saw the door open and stopped as Mindy came out, her mascara running.

"Mindy, are you all right?" he asked, moving towards her. Stopping a short distance away, Jill seemed to reach out for Chris before he waved her to go on without him. Shrugging, Jill gave Mindy a shaky smile before she headed off.

"I'm fine, Chris," Mindy said as soon as Jill had turned the corner. Wrapping her arms around herself, Mindy smiled slightly, although it looked pained.

Reaching out to cup her cheek, Chris frowned and brushed a tear away. "You're crying, Mindy... and they don't look like happy tears."

Moving herself away from Chris' touch, Mindy went to stare at the door, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Can we... go to the roof? I need a smoke."

Nodding, Chris gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder and headed up to the roof with her. While Mindy had always been Chris' rock during his many trials and tribulations, their roles had been reversed as of late. She was probably feeling the tension more than anyone else at the station, and had been bearing the brunt of the accusations against Irons the most.

As soon as they had reached the roof, Mindy trudged by the men working on the helicopter and sat down on a small bench near the railing. Taking his packet out of his vest pocket, Chris passed a smoke to Mindy and lit it for her before sitting beside her.

"What's up?" he asked, resting forward slightly.

Savouring the cigarette, Mindy closed her eyes before opening them, the smoke curling up from her mouth and nose slowly. "Irons... He's been getting... strange."

"Like... how so?"

"He's been locking himself in his office as of late. Like, literally locking the door and not letting anyone else in. The few times I've been able to get inside he's got one light on, and he's just hunched over his desk doing nothing.

"I asked today... if he was okay, and he just started screaming at me. Yelling and throwing a fit—half of what he was saying didn't make any sense to me. I'm just..."

Trailing off, Mindy shook her head and ran a hand through her long blonde locks, fingers getting stuck in a few small knots. Tugging them loose, Mindy chewed her bottom lip before taking another drag.

"I'm scared, Chris. I'm... I mean... I don't know what's going on. I feel like everything is falling apart."

Reaching for her shoulder, Chris squeezed it gently as she moved to rest against him. "Is there anything I can do?"

Chris hated the situation he and everyone else had been put in. Secrets, mistrust, and fear—all of these had become common day occurrences for the people of Racoon. He wanted to stop it. He wanted to get involved with the case and go into the forest to actually investigate—stop the murders and the lies, and really protect the citizens of Racoon City.

He just wanted to help.

"There is nothing you can do, Chris... Just... just being here for me is enough," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you worried about... you know, if Irons will do anything?" he asked after a time, Mindy's words finally settling. If she was afraid of Irons now, there must be a good reason for it.

Pulling away to look at him, Mindy shook her head eventually. "N-no, I don't think he'll hurt me. I'm just worried about... No, never mind."

Well now she had to tell him.

"Mindy, what's going on?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. Mindy stood up quickly to leave and snuffed out her smoke, only half finished.

"It's nothing, Chris. J-just promise me... Promise me you won't do anything too rash. I can handle myself—I'm a big girl. Like I said, just... be there if I need it."

Nodding, Chris was about to say something; protest and tell her she needed to tell him what was going on so he could help. He was a cop for god's sake, and he felt as useless as a kitten. But Mindy interrupted him and, like she had a habit of doing, stopped Chris from saying exactly what he was thinking.

"Chris, I know you want to be proactive about this, but we have to take it one day at a time. I'm sure you'll also figure out a way to help the people of Raccoon. Who knows, maybe you'll get a lucky break."

**XX**

Chris walked home later that evening after leaving his Jeep at the station in order to clear his mind. He was always too busy concentrating on the road to give himself time to just... think. Kicking a pebble across the sidewalk, Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets and gathered his thoughts about the 'wild dog' cases, as they had been referred to. He wasn't about to give up on getting more information—not when people's lives were in danger because of some cover-up.

No, he had a duty to protect the people, and he was going to see it through. If only he could get ahold of some case files, or maybe convince Irons to put STARS on the case. Or maybe...

Stopping at a familiar corner, Chris looked across the street to see a small brick building wedged between two taller, but equally old buildings. The door was black with a shiny silver handle, and the windows were tinted, letting some light in but preventing gawkers from looking inside to stare at people.

Or maybe Wesker was the way.

It was the lounge Wesker took Chris to as a thank you for helping him when he was shot.

It was the lounge that had led him to his first kiss with Wesker, and eventually to one of the messiest, angriest, most lust-filled, and all together most amazing relationships he had ever been in.

No matter how fucking pissed off Chris was... he still missed Wesker. Still missed seeing him in the mornings—still missed venting his frustrations out with mind-blowing sex... Still missed his scent, his habits... his occasional smiles.

Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes and let the emotions pass before he did anything else. Thinking about Wesker like that was meaningless. They were over... it was done.

Even though it pained Chris to think that—to even admit it, in fact—he knew it was for the best; that Wesker was bad for him. But that didn't stop him from still wanting him.

Taking another calm breath, Chris suddenly found himself in need of a drink. Crossing the street against the light, Chris hurried across to the lounge and opened the door. Closing it quickly, Chris cut off the outside light in the building in order to keep the dark atmosphere going, and found himself standing in the doorway for a time, his eyes blinking as he tried to adjust to the lack of bright light.

The place was relatively empty, save for a few business partners sharing a drink before they went home for the evening, giving Chris that needed peace and quiet. Shaking off the feeling like he was out of place (he always felt like that in here), Chris strode forward to claim a seat at the bar, its appearance the same as when he first visited. Only this time the bartender was a man, and the bottles against the back wall were fuller than they had been before.

New shipment must have arrived.

Sitting down near the end, Chris ordered whatever was on tap, and wrapped his calloused hands around the glass. Staring into the white froth that had appeared at the top, Chris watched the tiny bubbles pop and form for some time while he decided that maybe thinking was a bad idea.

Maybe he should just... stare.

Getting lost in the absolute hypnotic spell beer can put someone in, Chris didn't even notice another man sit down at the bar a few seats away, before a familiar voice snapped him out of his daze.

"The usual, please."

Raising his head quickly, Chris immediately glared as he saw Wesker sitting a little ways away, delicate hands perched upon the counter as he watched the bar tender fix his drink. Passing the rich, amber liquid over to him, the bartender waved Wesker's money away and went back to doing whatever bartenders did during their slow time.

Chris noticed with some relief that Wesker hadn't appeared to see him just yet, and thanked the shadows for concealing his general appearance. Taking the opportunity to watch Wesker, Chris finally took a sip of his beer just as Wesker went to savour his scotch.

To the casual observer he would have looked the same—a poised, elegant, slightly narcissistic man enjoying his scotch after a long day at work. But Chris saw everything. He saw the tightness in the corner of his mouth, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and the weariness in his shoulders, as if three men were perched upon him.

Wesker would never admit it, and Chris would never say it out loud, but he looked like he could use a nap—a nap that lasted a few months, at least.

Not really knowing what to do, Chris continued to sit in the shadows, his beer forgotten as he tried not to move in fear Wesker would notice him. He really didn't want to talk—

"Stop staring at me, Chris."

Feeling a burst of adrenaline shoot through his system, Chris' first instinct was to get up and leave; avoid the confrontation all together. The two of them hadn't really talked on a personal level since their split. It was always about work when they did speak and always incredibly rushed, as if they were both feeling the strain. He wanted to leave and not deal with the opportunity to speak to him privately, but his pride kept him from doing so, and he simply took another sip of his beer before speaking.

"I didn't think you had the time to come here anymore," he said, the beer going down slowly, soothing the sudden dryness in his mouth.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"William Birkin?"

Or maybe a new... fling? Quashing such notions as soon as they came, Chris kept his hand tight around his glass, grounding himself.

"It is none of your concern, Christopher." He sounded bored as he swirled the scotch around in the glass, releasing more of the strong aroma. But as soon as he had said Christopher, there was a slight pause in his movements, as if he knew he had slipped up.

"D-don't call me—"

"I know, I apologise for any mental scarring you receive each time I say your full name," Wesker said, and Chris knew he was rolling his eyes behind his shades.

Rolling his eyes as well, Chris took another sip of his beer, this time taking in more in order to pause the conversation—if you could even call it that. Putting the glass back down, Chris coughed the bitter taste away before speaking up again without really realizing he was saying anything until it was too late.

"Have you been given access to the cases involved with the wild dogs?"

Turning his attention away from his glass, Wesker's hair caught what little light there was, and Chris followed the strand of light as it crossed the top of his head. "Do you mean the case that STARS is not involved in?"

Bringing his gaze back to Wesker's face, Chris nodded slowly. "Yeah, that one."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not involved, Chris... Now drop it."

If he could just convince Wesker that this needed further investigating, maybe he'd be able to pull some strings and get them the case files. After all, Wesker had always been someone who needed to know everything that was going on, and to be left in the dark on such an important case must really, truly bother him. If Chris could just tap into that feeling...

"You're not just the least bit curious to know what's going on?" Chris asked, moving to sit a chair width away from him. "I mean, haven't you felt the changes at the RPD?"

"Not really," Wesker said, an eyebrow raising as Chris moved to sit closer. "I concern myself with my team, no one else."

"Not even Irons?" Chris knew that Wesker regularly visited Irons, detailing missions and cases to him... or something. Chris actually didn't know what Wesker talked to him about, but he was positive Wesker would notice Irons' radical change in behaviour.

"I haven't noticed much, no... He seems high-strung, but that is understandable given his taxidermy allegations."

Chris didn't even see an indication in his body language that would indicate Wesker being at all fazed by the questions. He was simply savouring his scotch, and if it was at all possible, he actually seemed a fraction more... relaxed.

"In any case, Chris, I would suggest you quiet down about the 'wild dog' situation. No need to stir up trouble where there is none," Wesker said, his attention going briefly to Chris before his gaze returned to his drink.

If Chris didn't know any better, he would say that sounded like a threat. Biting back anything too rash, Chris simply took a deep breath before returning to look at his half empty beer glass. Where once he had felt at ease sitting casually next to Wesker, he now felt stifled, like everything was too close and the walls would close in on him.

Realizing he wasn't going to get through to Wesker about getting access to the files, Chris made move to leave before Wesker spoke again.

"How are you?"

His voice was soft, and Chris swore there was the barest hint of concern mixed in with his usual indifference. Caught off guard by the simple question, Chris took a moment to convince himself Wesker had actually asked the question before answering.

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" he asked.

"Either one—I have time."

Taking a second to decide on whether or not he wanted to open up to Wesker—again—Chris finally sighed before answering. "I'm okay."

And just like that, Chris had once again closed the door on their relationship, preventing Wesker from trying to get back in. He didn't know why Wesker was asking, or if he really cared, but Chris would not go down that road again... No matter how much he wanted to just tell Wesker that, no, he wasn't okay. In fact, he was stressed out of his mind. He hadn't been sleeping well, he wasn't eating properly, and god damn, he missed him.

He missed him so much.

But all he said was "okay", because in the long run it was easier that way.

"That is good to hear. I need my men in tip-top shape," Wesker said before finishing his scotch. Standing up, Wesker tossed some bills on the counter despite the bartender's protest, and moved to leave.

"What about your meeting?" Chris found himself asking, turning a little to watch Wesker pause. Putting his hand on the back of the chair, Wesker turned a little to look at Chris.

"I was lying. I had hoped you wouldn't speak to me if you knew I was waiting for someone."

Dick.

"Thanks, that was nice of you," Chris said, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

"I knew you were going to talk to me about the case, and I would have rather avoided the topic. I also knew you would be displeased with my answer," Wesker began before he moved a little closer. "Although, if you wanted to talk so badly, perhaps we could return to my apartment..."

Again, Chris was caught off guard. Looking away, he went to stare at his beer glass, body shaking a little. It would be so easy to say yes; give into temptation and this time let himself be used. He knew Wesker wanted some stress relief and not to get back together—and for a second, Chris was okay with that.

It would be so easy...

"I think I'll pass," Chris said, voice strong despite the weakness in his body. A moment passed in which nothing was said, before Wesker retracted his hand from the back of the bar stool.

"Very well. I will see you on Monday... And don't get yourself involved in matters that do not concern you," Wesker said before leaving, his presence fading quickly, allowing Chris to let out a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Chugging the rest of his beer, Chris stayed at the bar for some time, not wanting to move.

Fuck Wesker... Now he needed a cold shower.

**XX**

"I was thinking of going to Australia for a vacation," Brad said, sitting back against Barry's couch, a handful of chips in his hand.

"Australia? Why?" Jill asked, tearing her attention away from the infomercial on the television detailing how spending only four easy payments of $39.99 for a fake diamond ring was a good deal. Jill didn't seem particularly convinced.

Shrugging, Brad popped a chip in his mouth and chewed it before speaking. "It's warm, it's got beaches, and I've always wanted to see a Koala in its natural habitat."

"It also has millions of poisonous spiders and snakes, not to mention you can get lost in the desert and die. Oh, and jellyfish—can't forget jellyfish," Chris mumbled from his corner on the couch, eyes glazed over as Barry turned to the news, a report about the fish population in the river airing.

"Oh... Maybe not, then," Brad mumbled, going a little pale.

The four of them had finally decided that getting together to just hang out was a good idea, and although they didn't go out for dinner like Jill had previously suggested, they had all decided to go over to Barry's to watch the baseball game that was airing.

The only issue with that, though, was no one really liked baseball.

Barry was more of a golf man, while Jill and Brad both liked soccer. Chris was always partial to football.

And so they spent most of the evening flipping through the channels, eating assorted snacks, all while chatting about anything and everything that didn't involve work. Chris thought it was nice just to get away from everything and hang out with his friends, even if he was fidgeting like crazy. Every second that he wasn't out there being his usual proactive self about the case and Mindy's situation was almost like torture.

But the conversation and the support he had around him kept him there, sitting on Barry's couch as Barry had begun to discuss the finer points of his gun.

Again.

"Barry, do you sleep with your gun under your pillow?" Jill asked, an eyebrow raised.

Laughing softly, Chris winked at Jill before returning his attention back to the news—it must have been a really slow news day.

"Now that's just unsafe, Jill," Barry said, humour in his tone despite his serious expression.

Jill was about to reply when a flash went across the screen of the TV, followed quickly by fast-paced music and a 'Breaking News' appearing on the screen before it was replaced with the local newscaster.

"This just in—reports of four more bodies have been discovered in the Raccoon City forest. This time the victims were, as we are told, killed in their own cabin," the newscaster began, her calm voice doing little to ease the sudden apprehension in Chris.

"What's this about—" Brad began before Chris tossed his arm out, flailing it a little as he glared at Brad. Getting the hint, Brad shut up just as the newscaster handed the story over to a reporter who was at the scene, police tape blocking the way to the house as they stood in the middle of the woods, lights flashing and people trudging around in the background.

"Yes, the bodies were discovered by neighbours who lived a little ways down the road from them," the reporter began, his glasses reflecting the light of the camera as he tried to contain his excitement about being the first on the scene. "They said they had seen a group of about seven or ten people around the area the night before, but were hesitant to approach them. Later today when they had not seen the family out and about, they went over to investigate."

Suddenly the news changed to an interview that was obviously recently taken, the editing still a little choppy as the witness' voice carried through mid sentence. "—it was just terrible. We had seen the door was open and let ourselves in, and couldn't believe the sight before us! There was blood everywhere, and the bodies— the people—they... they looked like they had been eaten."

It quickly turned back to the reporter on the scene just as the interview seemed to go in a bad direction, the witness seemingly about to pass out in her ironically sunny summer dress.

"We don't know too much about what had happened so far, but it's safe to assume that these deaths, and the previous bodies found in the woods just a few days earlier, are connected. Rumours of a death cult have begun to surface, with local wiccans on the defensive. We'll get back to you with more as soon as we can. Back to you, Jen."

"Thank you, Roger. Now, with our next story, 'Kittens and the people who love them'."

Turning the volume down on the TV, everyone in the room simply stared at the playing kittens for a time, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Four more deaths and all at the same time. And this time it clearly was not rabid dogs.

Grinding his teeth, Chris held back a snarl before shooting up from the couch just as Brad cracked a chip he'd been holding with a vice-like grip between his thumb and forefinger.

"Barry, can I use your phone?" Chris asked, already striding towards the kitchen where the phone hung.

"Sure, but who are you going to call?" he asked after Chris, getting up to follow.

Chris was done waiting around; done being the useless one when he knew he could do more—a lot more. No, this time, he was getting involved; this time, he was going to do something.

"I'm getting my lucky break," he said, picking up the white receiver.

Things are getting serious, you guys! It's the final countdown to zoooombies! Anyways, like I stated before- no new update until about 2 weeks have passed! Blasted school! But yes, once essays and such have been handed in, the regular 10 day updates will happen again! Don't worry! Thank you for reading through, and with ever chapter gone by, we get closer and closer to some flesh eating good times!