Chapter 8: Honeymoon
"1355 hours, May 4th. Leaving the Queen Charlotte Islands flying through Vancouver, then landing in a town called Rockaway Beach west of Portland, Oregon." Alice switched off her recorder and placed it back in her shoulder bag.
"So, Oregon huh?" Claire asked.
"Yep, I know a nice place we'll be able to stop and rest." At least Alice hoped it was still nice; she hadn't been to Rockaway Beach for years, but it was such a small town and mostly dead to begin with that a few undead walking around would be more life then the place had seen in its heyday.
Claire fell asleep as they passed over Vancouver two and a half hours later. The wind was such that they didn't make any time, but didn't lose any either. Alice was almost jealous of Claire, not because she was asleep but because she seemed so at peace. Alice almost never felt that way, especially in her rest. Her sleep was that of the guilty; every night it was the same nightmare causing her to twitch and turn. She craved the occasional nights of oblivion where she was so tired that she just blacked out.
An hour and a half later, Alice woke Claire and readied the plane to land in an abandoned hay field. As they exited the plane, again gun at the ready, Alice could taste the salt on the air.
They walked about half a mile to a grove of mature trees. They were so tall and thick that the women couldn't see the building that Alice knew was behind them. After a minute or two of walking through the dense congregation of forest they emerged upon the shoreline and a venetian style beach house. The building had high arches and low angle rooftops, a gesture to ancient times. Tangles of stretching vines encased sections of the walls, one window was broken, but overall the structure looked in good condition. They crossed into the threshold of the house silently and went from room to room checking for danger, Alice didn't want another welder incident.
Most of the floors were either wooden or marble tile, so their footsteps echoed and it made the ex-project wary. If anything was in the house, their presence would be announced loud and clear but there was no avoiding it. The inner walls were adorned with silver framed mirrors and traditional style paintings. Each room they entered was more richly adorned than the one before it, but it all paled in comparison to the very last room, the master bedroom.
Large bay windows facing the ocean illuminated the canopy-covered king-size bed. The wooden armoire, nightstands, and bed posts were all of expensive cherry, and a white marble fireplace was adorned with carved angelic-figures. The lavishness and frivolity of it all made Alice feel sick, at least that's what she wanted to pretend. With the initial sweep completed Alice re-holstered her pistol, and Claire took it as sign that conversation was now ok.
"This place is amazing!" Claire said with wonder, as they went back down the short hallway and into the gathering room.
"Mm, I spent my honeymoon here."
"You're married?"
Alice snorted at the question in amusement. "Hardly. It was a set-up by Umbrella; part of my cover."
"Oh, what happened to the guy?"
"He got what he deserved," Alice's humor vanished at the mention of the man who took everything from her. Spence could be blamed for a lot of things…
"So, Umbrella's responsible for this cluster fuck?"
But so could Alice.
"To an extent."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, just forget it," Alice responded curtly.
Claire stopped her line of questioning, but the damage was done. Alice said next to nothing as they searched the house for useable items, leftover food, and Claire was still in awe that such a beautiful place could exist in the middle of nowhere. Like the house, dinner was relatively extravagant as the beach house was kept well stocked for its once upon a time paying customers.
For Alice the meal was far from enjoyable, this place made her miserable. As if she wasn't reminded enough about her mistakes every time she faced off against the undead, they came here and Alice got to relive the very first one. The very first time she foolishly slept with Spence Parks, led him on, and let him think that he was what she wanted. She thought it would be nice to take Claire here; that the redhead would like it and she did. It was Alice who didn't – who was ashamed to compare the two by bringing her to this charming house. Spence was a rushed, lust-filled desire, but Claire…Claire was so much more.