3. On The Move
The rumbling of the small car seemed to soothe Sheva slightly, but not enough. The sound of indie folk played on the radio, the poetic lyrics giving her something to decipher, to fill her mind with something to do besides look in the back seat behind her or yell at Jake who was sitting in the driver's seat. The song playing was by First Aid Kit. It was an odd song, Sheva thought, but a certain charm about it kept her listening, trying to relate to the lyrics meaning.
But everything I say I keep in the wrong side of my mouth
And when the words come out they don't sound anything like
I imagined, 'cause I imagined…
It feels like I am waiting for the rain.
I want to live that life again, I want to live that life again.
Or an endless secret, parade of change.
I want to cross oceans, I want to cross oceans.*
And then the song would continue, leading to the chorus, leaving Sheva to think of the verse sung before. When Jake shuffled in his seat, he reached his right hand over and changed the channel for a rock station, snapping Sheva out of her trance.
"I never would have taken you as some who liked indie music," Sheva commented.
He looked at her from the corner of his eye, expecting her to say something that'd rouse an argument. That's all they'd been doing for the past seventeen hours in the car.
"I don't," he told her. "It's just, there's someone who likes folk and she's been telling me to check out bands and artists sometimes. I just thought I'd try it out."
"And do you like it?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. But I can see why she does. She likes when something has a lot of meaning. She likes stories a lot."
"Who is she?" Sheva asked, having an idea who "she" was.
"No one," he told her plainly. When she chuckled, he glared at her. "What?"
"Nothing," she answered just as vaguely.
"She" was Sherry Birkin. While going over reports, Sheva had read in the BSAA files how Muller and Birkin had been together since Edonia, not romantically but as prisoners/partners/friends. However, with the way Jake talked about Sherry, though he never said her name, Sheva knew she was the girl he spoke mysteriously about.
"So, you gonna tell me who you are?" he asked after five minutes of silence.
"You gonna tell me your plan?" she retorted, watching as he rolled his eyes. The gesture, the exchange of words, the mood, was familiar.
"Not until you tell me who you are," he replied, staying strong to his stubbornness. Sheva could play at that game, too, and just as well.
"Don't you think it rather reckless of you to not only kidnap a man from a high security organization but also naive to bring along someone who you know nothing about? I could be very important to the BSAA, you know."
"For one, that wasn't high security if I could get in. Secondly, I didn't force you to come with me. You could have called the police right when you caught me. And lastly, if you are important, then I look forward to finding out who you are, which I plan on learning very soon."
She said nothing as she leaned against her car door, finding nothing interesting enough to combat him verbally with. It's not that her identity was some great reveal, hardly. But it was something she knew he didn't know, so it offered her the upper hand on some standards. She knew loads about him. Once the BSAA had gotten word of Wesker having a son, Jake's life was thoroughly investigated, and she learned as much as she could about him in the last week. She knew about his childhood in Edonia, his experience with guerrilla groups, and becoming a mercenary. She was even able to read about his mother, the woman Albert had loved, but little was known about her. Sheva was left with gapes of knowledge in Jake's life, but she planned on learning who he was and what he wanted with his father.
Thinking of Wesker, Sheva looked back to the seats behind her, frowning to see that the hostage was still passed out from the sedative Jake had given him. When Jake initially woke him up, he gave Wesker a small tranquilizer, and once they got into the getaway car, he was given another to keep asleep for the long drive.
"Do you think he'll wake up soon?" she queried, still looking back at the passed out Wesker.
"Really any minute now," Jake stated. "We're almost at the motel. We'll stop there for a few hours to get some rest and then we continue on."
"Is it safe to settle somewhere for a few hours? We both know we have people looking for all three of us."
She sat straight again, seeing a small establishment in the distance in the middle of nowhere. From the last sign she saw, they were in Florida if she was correct. They were somewhere in the undeveloped part of the state where government offices or commercial companies had yet to claim territory. The last sign of civilians she had seen was forty minutes ago at some small farmers market.
"It's only for a few hours," Jake said. "We rest, we leave for the coast, and we're off the continent. If we get caught, then we get caught. But right now we need to get him," he pointed to the backseat with his thumb, "somewhere quiet so he can wake up and rejuvenate, or whatever he needs to do. Once he's strong enough to walk on his own without falling from exhaustion, we start moving again."
As if on cue, a low groan came from the back seat. Sheva turned around in her seat to look at Wesker immediately while Jake looked into the rearview mirror, trying to get a look at what was going on while still keeping an eye on the road ahead. As she watched Wesker bring his hands to his eyes and press on the delicate skin, she gripped the headrest on the seat she sat in with her own hands, her heartbeat accelerating with anticipation. He stayed like this for a small moment, but when Jake had to turn into the motel's parking lot, Wesker pulled his hands away and starred at the ceiling with furrowed brows. It wasn't hard to see that he was confused, either baffled why he was in a car or trying to recall his last memory.
The car came to a stop. Jake turned off the ignition and turned in his seat to join Sheva's watch over the eldest male. They both gasped in unison when Wesker looked to them with inquisitive eyes, but Sheva was the one to see the anger behind his gaze. She looked away from the man in the backseat and looked to Jake, whose face was mere inches from hers.
"What do we do now?" she asked him, hoping he'd reveal some of his plan.
"I'm gonna go buy a room for the night," he told her slowly. "Why don't you try talking to him? I'll be back." And with that, he turned in his seat and exited the car, racing for the office.
As she watched Jake walk quickly away, she could see Wesker rising to sit straight in her peripheral. She held back the need to gulp, not wanting to embarrass herself, and turned to look him. Well, she ended up gulping the lump in her throat when she met his eyes and her body shivered with the intensity of his gape. Now in the setting sun, his eyes looked more grey than blue like they had last night when she caught Jake waking him up. The red stripe in his left iris wasn't the same glowing red it was the night before, but a dull maroon that contrasted with the grey. His eyes may not have been glowing like earlier, but they still had an eerie look to them. She had to admit, though, they weren't as intimidating as when his eyes used to be entirely burning red.
"Uh, hi," she muttered, feeling ungainly with the silence. To add to the awkwardness, she gave him a small pathetic wave of her hand, laughing nervously. "How do you feel?"
He never looked away. It was as if he was studying her but his eyes never left hers. "Who are you?"
Biting her lip, her fingers gripped tighter into the vinyl of the headrest that she was nearly strangling. "You don't remember me? Really?"
"If I remembered you, I wouldn't be asking you who you are, now would I?" he sneered. His voice sounded like what acidic felt like—burning and unmistakable. "Who's the man with you?"
"Oh, him," she mumbled. She did her best to put on a poker face for now. She didn't want him to see how he had just hurt her with his previous words. "I'll let him introduce himself. Why don't we get you out of the car and into the room?"
"I'm not a child," he hissed.
He kicked the door at his feet only to find the door did not budge. His brows furrowed more with frustration. Why didn't the door fly off the car? He tried again, but like the first attempt, the door did not open. When he heard Sheva shuffle, he looked to her to see that she was holding back a smirk and it angered him immensely.
"You're going to tire yourself if you keep up with the kicking."
When he started to kick even harder, she couldn't hold back the chuckle. He claimed he wasn't a child, but children kicked. Sheva thought to only finish the picture all he needed to do was scream. Then he'd be a kicking and screaming child. She was about to laugh again when he growled, but before her throat could produce the noise, he kicked so hard the door flew open. It may not have flown off, but Sheva was left gaping at the sight while it was Wesker's turn to laugh. He slid out of the back seat, testing his feet on the gravel outside. Sheva got out faster than daylight and watched as he tried standing on his own feet.
"You're too weak to walk on your own. You were asleep for seventeen hours," she stated. Not to mention four years in cryostasis before that, she thought.
He was about to say he wasn't a child again as he stood from the vehicle. But as he stood straight, his right knee wobbled slightly and he lost footing. Sheva was quick to catch his arm and keep him up, putting a hand to his tee shirt covered chest to keep him from toppling forward. His hands reflexively went to her shoulders for balance, trying to put more weight on his feet then on her body. Moving to stand in front of him, Sheva moved her other hand to his chest and pushed him back a little when he started leaning forward ungracefully. After a moment, his hands lifted from her and he raised one foot, set it down and lifted the other. Once he felt he could keep his own balance, he looked to the young woman in front of him and studied as she looked at her hands.
"Maybe if you told me your name, I'd remember you," he spoke softly, trying to fool her with calmness in his voice. Really, he was confused and irritated why he couldn't keep his own steadiness or his strength had seemed to decrease considerably since the last time he could remember.
She thought for a quick second. Maybe if she told him her name, he'd remember her. And then he would kiss her, hold her, love her… "My name is Sheva Alomar," she whispered, looking to meet his grey eyes.
His face went cold, hardly what she was hoping for. His eyes scanned her face for familiarity, his lips going to their usual frown. He took a step back to look her up and down. As she began to feel insecure under his scrutinizing gaze, Jake's voice broke them both out of silent tension.
"Here's the room," he waved to the open doorway he stood next to.
Wesker gave Sheva one more look before he scoffed, shook his head, and strode quickly to the room. Sheva was left by the car, her arms self-consciously hugging her body as Jake looked into the room to see his father go into the bathroom, slamming the door shut followed by the sound of the shower running. He turned to look at the brunette, stepping to her and trying to read her expression.
"What did he say to you?" he probed. The way she looked as if she'd cry and her arms holding her tightly told Jake that she was insulted to the point of insecurity. Just what did Wesker say to her?
"He didn't say anything," she said almost inaudibly.
He brought his hand to scratch his scalp, an eyebrow arching in confusion. He didn't know how to deal with this woman when she was yelling at him or now how she was about to cry. He didn't even know her name. "Well, just think: if he made you feel this way without saying anything, imagine how he'll react to learn I'm his illegitimate son. Don't worry. I'm going to take the brunt of it all pretty much." He softly tapped her arm to comfort her in the most personable way he could manage.
"Heh, thanks," she managed to smile, but her eyes did not show any form of content. She wiped the few tears that formed at the corner of her eyes and sniffled. Once she felt stable enough, she asked him, "so what are we going to do next? You said something about getting off the continent."
"Right, I have to make a call," he reminded himself as he turned to go to the room, Sheva following him. When she asked who it was he needed to call, he stopped short and looked at her. "Just someone."
"Is it Sherry Birkin?"
"No, it's not Sherry," he claimed with what sounded like embarrassment and offensiveness. "It's the guy that's helped out this far. I was surprised when he contacted me. He knew I was going to search for Wesker, so he wanted to help me out. He's supposed to have a jet ready at the coast and then we'll get on that and meet him once we get to Europe."
"Europe? We'll be on that jet for a few hours. What if the BSAA have men prepared at the docks when we arrive and then we're caught? What are we going to do then?"
It was an odd confession to him, but Jake liked that she would say "we" and not "you". It was a comfort to know he wasn't alone in this. "They won't know to look there. They might look in England where they had originally captured Wesker, but not Ireland. There are no traces of his residence there."
Sheva nearly tripped on the dark blue carpet as she walked to one of the beds when he said Ireland. A bad feeling arouse in her stomach. A dread was settling inside of her aside from her head feeling light, as if she might faint.
"Why Ireland? Who's this guy helping you?"
"That's where Wesker used to live before he became a vegetable in New York. And it's where the guy helping me out lives," he explained. He settled on the other bed and splayed out, shutting his eyes and ready to sleep after driving for seventeen hours straight. Sheva had offered driving a few times, but he refused. She had no idea where they needed to go and he didn't entirely trust her yet.
"What's this guy's name who's helping you?" she questioned. When he told her he couldn't say the identity of this mysterious but helpful man, she whined like a temperamental child and stomped her foot. She thought it was a bad idea to move so violently when things started to slightly spin in her vision. "What's his first name?"
"Can't say, sorry. Not my name to give away," he mumbled, wishing she'd shut up so he could get some sleep.
Sheva crawled onto his bed, slapping his chest. He yelped and swatted her slapping hand away. She stopped, grasping his shirt's collar into a clutch and tugged. "Is his name Isaac?"
He finally stopped trying to push her away when she said the man's name. He rose to rest on his elbows and looked at her with a suspicious look. "Yeah… Yeah, that's his name. Isaac Tate."
Before he could catch her, Sheva's eyes rolled up and she fell back, hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Jake scrambled to look at her and frowned to see she had fainted and lay unconscious on the floor. He poked her arm, but she was unresponsive. He scratched his scalp a second time that day and thought to himself, how does she know Isaac Tate?
Though part of him was grateful Sheva never kept alcohol in the condo, Chris wished he had some type of liquor to numb the depression he felt. Day two was approaching that Sheva was gone and no one knew where she was. Oh, and Wesker was missing as well. Gone from his cryogenic cell and gone from the compounds of the BSAA. Part of him was angry at his own anti-bioterrorist paramilitary company for letting Wesker escape, but he was more outraged with himself that he wasn't there to catch the son of a bitch in the process. If only he was there when it happened…
Chris was broken from his fantasies surrounding what he'd do to Wesker if he stood in front of him now when his cell phone began to ring. He lay on the floor in the bedroom with Sheva's cloths thrown about everywhere. He didn't think twice when he dashed to the nightstand next to the bed to get his phone, answered the call, and held the device to his ear.
"Sheva?! Sheva, is that you?" he nearly shouted into the phone with urgency.
"Ugh, Redfield, stop yelling. I can hear you loud and clear if you just talk normally."
Chris looked at the phone, reading the caller id only to growl at the name. Alyssa Ashcroft. "What do you want Ashcroft?" he muttered sharply.
"What I want is your report on Lanshiang and what's going on with the Wesker case. I need you here at the office so we can go over all of this," the BSAA representative informed him.
He scoffed. She didn't even mention Sheva. She was missing, she needed to be found, and Ashcroft showed no sympathy. His Sheva needed to be found. Without saying a word, he hung up and tossed his phone to the floor, getting mixed with the mess of clothes all around. He fell on the bed with a sigh, his arms gathering what articles of Sheva's clothing lay there, and brought them closer until he could smell her scent on the fabric. The lavender and jasmine perfume filled his nose, offering him some form of comfort for the smallest second. Then the depression would pull him deeper and remind him that it was just clothes and not actually her. He hid his face, telling himself not to cry. She's coming back, he told himself. She'll be home any minute now.
"Where are you?" he cried softly into her clothes, hiding from the world then.
Author's note: Alyssa Ashcroft has been unofficially introduced, Isaac has been going behind Sheva's back, Chris is moping, Wesker isn't as strong as he used to be, and Jake is listening to indie folk music because of Sherry. The world can change people! I've never played Outbreak, but I've watched walkthrough's and read up a lot on REWiki, so I hope I'm prepared for Alyssa. She'll play a larger role in Chris's side of the story. Along the way, we might see one other Outbreak character appear in the story. My lips are sealed as to who that will be…
Auktober: Your long review humbles me, sir. Haha, thanks for putting so much thought into it! I do feel bad that I made Wesker's memory a little spotty. But that's what I'd imagine would happen to your memories after years sleeping, right? I don't know, really. More Shesker moments to come in future chapters, I promise! I'm kind of intimidated to write for Jake because he seems very private and yet he has no agenda. I don't think he plans everything he does thoroughly, which is kind of a downfall for him. But that's just what I see. Aha, I appreciate that you're excited for chapter updates! It really makes me eager to write and then post for you to read. I was surprised how short I made the last chapter, but I'm trying to type them out a little longer. Thank you for your feedback!
Comix777: I'd go looney, too. I'd probably commit myself to the psycho ward! No, I'm kidding. I'm glad to hear the fan fiction is working out really well!
Sasusakui: Ahaha, is Chris banging his chest like King Kong too? Because that would be the most hilarious mental image. Haha!
littlevamp: Thank you! It means a lot that you were willing to read the first, so I appreciate it. Haha, totally, Sheva wants to jump Wesker's bones and so do I. I mean, what? Anyways! Thank you again. :)
Happy early Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans, good luck and be safe on Black Friday, and I hope those of you who don't celebrate the holiday or are not American have a lovely week. Please leave a review or comment on your thoughts about this chapter. I'd appreciate it so much!
-Sarai
*Lyrics to 'Cross Oceans' by First Aid Kit. I don't own copyrights.