A/N: I am back ladies and gentlemen! And so has RE Legacy! After such a long hiatus and the creation of several new stories, I finally decided to return to one of the fics that started it all. And after re-reading the books, and replaying a few games, I'm ready to pick up where I left off.
So after all this time, here's the newest installment! (I don't own Resident Evil!)
Chapter 28:
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend." - Arabian Proverb
Even though time wasn't really on their side, Ethan was able to explain everything that had occurred weeks prior. From the strange murders, to the incident at both the training facility and the mansion, to the city discrediting their findings and Umbrella hunting for them.
Everything leading up to the fall of Raccoon to the living dead and the BOWs that rampaged the streets.
Echo Six listened to every word, gathering much needed intel on the situation. When asked to see proof, the teen held out a data disk, one of the many copies he had made. Shona took it and slipped it into a hand-held computer and combed over the data. Eyes widening with each passing second.
"Shit...these scientists were into some sick experiments." said the field scientist as he read the files. "It's very detailed too. You say you got this straight from both facilities?"
Ethan nodded, "Wasn't that hard to find. When the T-Virus broke out there wasn't anyone left to cover up their secrets. Now they've got a private army and that big-ass attack dog of theirs skulking around cleaning house. Killing any and all survivors that could spill the truth."
Dee-Ay pressed his earpiece, "Command, you getting all of this?"
"We just received the data Shona was looking through...It's far more than what we could have expected, and a lot worse than we feared." replied the CO on the other end. "Our young friend checks out, he was appointed strategic specialist of the local STARS branch a few months back. Detailed reports say that he's almost a genius, and if he's managed to survive Raccoon all this time its easy to see that he earned his place."
"The data he provided will set us in the right direction, but you are not to share your mission objective with him."
"Understood." said the squad leader turning to their guest. "Where are you headed?"
Ethan rolled his shoulders, "I've got a few loose ends to tie up, then I'm getting the fuck outta here. You guys should think about doing the same."
"No can do, sugar." said Party Girl. "We gots to rescue any survivors."
The ex-STARS operative shook his head getting the attention of the squad, "Survivors? Not likely. This place has been picked pretty clean." he looked over each of them with a critical eye, "And besides...your not here for survivors, are you?"
Echo Six looked to one another, Dee-Ay went to rebuff the claim but the teen waved his hand cutting him off. "It's none of my business what your mission is, but it's obvious your not with Umbrella and intend on taking them down. That's all I care about." he reached into his pack and produced a vial of T-Antigen. "And that's why I think I can trust you six with this."
"What is that?" asked Harley.
"T-Antigen, the cure for the T-Virus." said Ethan causing all their heads to snap up.
"There's a bloody cure?!" Tweed said in shock. "How the fuck did you get your hands on it?"
The teen smirked, "Same way me and the others survived Umbrella's creations. Very carefully, and with a bit of luck." he replied handing the vial to Dee-Ay. "If you guys are serious about bringing these bastards down for good, make sure that gets out of the city with you. Make Umbrella pay for what they have done."
Taking the cure carefully, the squad leader nodded to him. "Thanks, you just made our job ten times easier."
"If you guys want more intel on Umbrella and anything else they might be up to, check city hall. They've been trying to fortify it for a few days now. Hopefully you'll find something they haven't destroyed yet." Ethan moved toward a door in the side of a nearby building and kicked it open. "Good luck." with that he vanished inside.
"Kid's got a pair of stones on him, that's for sure." said Harley getting a nod or two from some of the others.
Dee-Ay looked at the vial of green fluid in his hand before handing it to Shona who stored it in a secure container with his supplies for safe keeping. "Let's get moving, we've got a lot of ground to cover."
X
The trip back to the police station was a tense one, but thankfully Ethan didn't run into very much trouble as he managed to double back. Staying out of sight of the handful of corpses that were still lingering around after the mad dash to escape Nemesis.
Thankfully the tyrant wasn't around. Most likely having gone off in another direction when he and the squad of soldiers managed to lose it.
Pushing the door before him open slowly, Samurai Edge leading, Ethan stepped back out onto the dark streets. The building he had taken another detour through was roughly a block away from the rear of the precinct, he'd be able to slip through the back without drawing too much attention if he moved silently enough.
Using the derelict cars that were spread out as cover, he moved quickly and quietly as he went through the car lot where he had parked his truck countless times before. Slipping by a few undead that were mingling around between a few vehicles that were still where their owners had left them.
When he tried the employee entrance, he found it locked and chained from the inside making him curse mentally before heading over to the iron gate that led into the 'L' shaped courtyard a few meters away. It was visibly bent, but unlocked as he pushed it open and stepped through it.
There was a flight of stairs that led to the helipad on the roof, he'd be able to get into the station from there. And if he was lucky, he'd be able to find Sherry and the others before they reached the underground labs.
Ethan's thoughts were cut off by the wind suddenly whipping around him and the loud thrum of a helicopter's engines. A moment later, the aircraft itself came into view close to the old water tower that was located in the southwest corner of the helipad, search light coming on as it shined down onto the roof.
Whether it was Umbrella or US Army he couldn't tell, but he was jogging toward the steps regardless as he took them up two at a time. Reaching the rooftop in seconds to find someone already there.
A young woman, dark-brown hair up in a pony tail wearing a pink-leather biker vest and matching shorts over a black shirt. 9mm Beretta in hand as she starred across from her at where the copter's spotlight was shining down on an RPD offcer.
The man shouted something that was lost in all the noise, but he failed to see the two zombies that were coming up behind him until it was too late. The light shining down from above illuminated the horrifying seen in detail as the undead tore into him and dragged him to the ground to feed.
The machine gun clutched in the officer's hand went off, bullets spraying in every direction while he was being devoured. Ethan thought fast, running the two steps forward and grabbing the woman around the waste and throwing them behind an A/C unit that was beside them.
She screamed in fear and started to struggle until he yelled loud enough for her to hear. "STAY DOWN!" Looking up, the brunette's eyes widened when she saw the living person that was covering her form with his kevlar covered one as bullets continued to bounce wildly around them.
Another sound was heard over the gunfire, the 'copter started giving off a strange humming sound that quickly became a mechanical scream. The aircraft diped down and swung around as it started to lose control. One of the stray rounds having punched through the cockpits window and hitting the pilot as it came down hard.
Blades slamming into the elevated part of the roof with a loud crash, brick and pieces of metal scattering in all directions as the nose end of the helicopter plowed into the helipad. The following explosion lit up the sky as the aircraft skidded to a stop against the southwest corner of the rooftop, nose end going throug a wal and disappearing inside.
Right ontop of the fallen cop and the undead feeding on him causing the automatic gunfire to come to an abrupt end. Fire already starting to spead from the damaged fuel tank causing a red-orange glow and the acrid smell of burning flesh to permeat the air.
Seconds ticked by before Ethan stood, observing the destruction and making sure that nothing else was going to happen before looking down at the woman and offering her a hand. "You okay, Claire?" he asked helping her to her feet.
"Y-Yeah." she said looking at the carnage. "Thanks." She suddenly snapped her head in his direction with raised eyebrows. "How did you know my name?"
The traveler smiled, "Name's Ethan Mercer, I worked with your brother in STARS before we were disavowed by the city. He told us all stories about you."
Claire Redfield's shoulders seemed to relax with what he could tell was relief. "You know Chris? Where is he? Is he still in the city?" she said starting to fire off question after question.
"Chris is fine, and no he's not in the city. He bugged out with two other friends of ours before Raccoon really went to shit." Ethan replied looking down to the bottom of the steps. The 'copter's explosion having attracted nearby corpses that were starting to converge on the bottom steps.
'Good thing they can't climb.' he thought before looking back at the younger Redfield. "Look, I can tell you really want answers. And I'll be happy to give them to you. But right now we need to get out of the open before something else comes along."
"What about the...zombies?" Claire asked, the word sounding strange to her even after seeing them in the rotting flesh since she arrived.
"They can't climb stairs, they lack the coordination and brain function to manage it." Ethan stated as he took out his shotgun and headed toward the roof access that would take them into the station.
"Wait!" she called making him pause. "There was someone else with me before, another police officer, we got separated a while back. He told me to head this way."
Ethan nodded, "Then chances are he's already here or on his way. We'll keep an eye out just incase." he opened the door and peered inside. Scanning for threats before motioning to her that it was safe. "Come on. There still might be some gear and supplies we can salvage."
Claire hesitated. She wasn't sure what to make of the man who looked to be a few years her junior. But given her situation, and the fact that he knows about what's going on and what happened to her brother she didn't have a whole lot of options.
And after the last hour that she's had, she was pretty sure she could handle herself if anything went bad.
Nodding to herself, she followed after the ex-STARS as they stepped insdie. Closing the door behind him as the fires from the wreck continued to burn.
X
Chief Irons was standing in one of his private corridors, trying to catch his breath when he felt the shuddering impact rumble through the building. He heard it, too. A distant splintering sound, heavy and abrupt.
'The roof.' he thought distantly, 'Something on the roof...'
He didn't bother following the thought to any kind of conclusion. Whatever happened, it couldn't make things any worse.
Irons pushed away from the stone wall with one well-padded hip, hefting Beverly as gently as he could. They'd be at the elevator in a moment, then there was just a short walk to his office; he could rest there, and then...
"And then," he mumbled to himself. "That's the question, isn't it? And then what?"
Beverly didn't answer. Her perfect features remained still and silent, eyes closed, but she seemed to nestle closer to him. Her long, slender body curling against his chest. It was his imagination, surely.
Beverly Harris, the mayor's daughter. Youthful, stunning Beverly, who had so often haunted his guilty dreams with her blond beauty. Irons hugged her closer and continued toward the elevator, trying not to let his exhaustion show in case she woke up.
By the time he reached the lift, his back and arms were aching. He probably should have left her in his private hobby room, the room he'd always thought of as the Sanctuary. It was quiet there, and probably one of the safest areas in the station. But when he decided to go to the office, to collect his journal and a few personal items, he found that he simply couldn't stand to leave her behind.
She'd looked so vulnerable, so innocent. He'd promised Harris that he would watch out for her, and what if she was attacked in his absence? What if he came back from the office and she was just...gone? Gone like everything else?
A decade of work. Networking, making the connections, careful positioning...all of it, just like that.
Irons lowered her to the cold floor and opened the elevator gate, trying desperately not to think about all that he'd lost. Beverly was the important thing now.
"Going to keep you safe." he murmured, and did one corner if that perfect mouth rise slightly? Did she know she was safe, that Uncle Brian was taking care of her? When she was a child, when he used to frequent the Harrises' for dinner, she'd called him that. 'Uncle Brian'.
She knows. of course she knows.
He half-dragged her into the lift and leaned her in the corner, gazing tenderly at her angelic face. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of almost paternal love for her, and wasn't surprised to feel tears well up in his eyes, tears of pride and affection. For days now he'd been subject to such emotional outbursts - rage, terror, even joy. He'd never been a particularly emotional man, but had grown to accept the powerful feelings, even to enjoy them after a fashion; at least they weren't confusing. He'd also had moments when he'd been overcome by a kind of strange, creeping haze, a formless anxiety that left him feeling deeply unsettled . . . and as bewildered as a lost child.
No more of those. There's nothing else that can go wrong now; Beverly's with me, and once I collect my things, we can hide away in the Sanctuary and get some rest. She'll need time to recover, and I can, can sort things through. Yes, that's it; things need to be sorted through.
He blinked the already forgotten tears away as the metal cage started to rise, unholstering his sidearm and ejecting the clip to count how many rounds were left. His private rooms were safe, but the office was another story; he wanted to be prepared.
The elevator came to a stop and Irons propped open the gate with one leg before lifting the girl, grunting with the exertion. He carried her as he would have carried a sleeping child, her cool, smooth body limp in his arms, her head rolled back and wobbling as he walked. He'd picked her up awkwardly, and her white gown had hiked up, exposing the tight, creamy skin of her thighs; Irons forced his gaze away, concentrating on the panel controls that opened the wall into his office. Whatever harmless fantasies he'd had before, she was his responsibility now, he was her protector, her white knight.
He was able to hit the protruding button with one knee. The wall slid open, revealing his plushly decorated and thankfully empty office; only the blank, glassy stares of his animal trophies greeted them.
The massive walnut desk that he'd had imported from Italy was right in front of him and his stamina was going fast; Beverly was a petite woman, but he wasn't in shape the way he used to be. He quickly laid her on the desk, pushing a cup of pencils to the floor with his elbow.
"There!" he exhaled deeply, smiling down at her.
She didn't smile back, but he sensed that she would be awake soon, like before. He reached under the desk and tapped the wall controls; the panel slid closed behind them.
He'd been concerned when he'd first found her, asleep next to Officer Scott in the back hall; George Scott was dead, covered with wounds, and when Irons had seen the red splash on Beverly's stomach, he'd been afraid that she was dead, too. But when he'd taken her to the Sanctuary, to his safe place, she'd whispered to him - that she didn't feel well, that she was hurt, that she wanted to go home ...
... did she? Did she really?
Irons frowned, snapped out of the uncertain memory by something, something he'd felt when he'd laid her on his hobby table and straightened her bloodstained gown, something he couldn't quite recall.
It hadn't seemed important at the time, but now, away from the hidden comforts of the Sanctuary, it was nagging at him. Reminding him that he had suffered one of those confused moments when he'd, when he'd...
... felt the cold, rubbery jelly of intestine beneath my fingers ...touched her.
"Beverly?" he whispered, sitting down behind his desk when his legs went suddenly weak. Beverly kept her silence - and a turbulent flood of emotions hit Irons like a tidal wave, crashing over him, crowding his mind with images and memories and truths that he didn't want to accept.
Cutting the outside lines after the first attacks. Umbrella, Birkin and the walking dead. The slaughter in the garage, when the bright coppery scent of blood had filled the air and Mayor Harris had been eaten alive, screaming until the very end. The dwindling numbers of the living through the first long and terrible night - and the cold, brutal realization that had hit him again and again, that the city, his city, was no more.
After that, he reached a confusion. The strange and hysterical joy that had overcome him when he'd realized that there would be no consequences for his actions.
Irons remembered the game he'd played on the second night, after some of Birkin's pets had found their way to the station and taken out all but a few of the remaining cops. He'd found Neil Carson cowering in the library and had. . . tracked him, hunting the sergeant down like an animal.
'What did it matter? What matters now is that my life in Raccoon is over?' he thought feebly.
All that was left, the only thing that he had to hold on to, was the Sanctuary, and the part of him that had created it, The dark and glorious heart inside of his own that he'd always had to keep hidden away.
That part was free now...
Irons looked at the corpse of Beverly Harris, laid out across his desk like some delicate and fragile dream, and felt that he might be torn apart by the feelings of fear and doubt that warred inside of him.
Had he killed her? He couldn't remember.
'Uncle Brian. Ten years ago, I was her Uncle Brian...What have I become?'
It was too much. Without taking his gaze from her lifeless face, he pulled the loaded VP70 from its holster and began to rub the barrel with numb fingers, gentle strokes that reassured him somehow as the weapon turned toward him.
When the bore was pressed firmly against his soft belly, he felt that some kind of peace might be within reach. His finger settled across the trigger, and it was then that Beverly whispered to him again, her lips still, her sweet, musical voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.
'... don't leave me, Uncle Brian. You said you'd keep me safe, that you'd take care of me. Think of what you could do now that everyone is gone and there's nothing to stop you ...'
"You're dead," he whispered, but she kept talking, soft and insistent.
'... nothing to stop you from being fulfilled, truly fulfilled for the first time in your life ...'
Tortured and aching, Irons slowly, slowly pulled the nine-millimeter away from his stomach. After a moment, he rested his forehead against Beverly's shoulder and closed his tired eyes.
She was right, he couldn't leave her. He'd promIsed, and there was something to what she'd said, about all of the things he could do. His hobby table was big enough to accommodate all kinds of animals ...
Irons sighed, not sure what to do next and wondering why he was in such a hurry to decide anyway. They would rest for a while, perhaps even take a nap together. And when they awoke, things would be clear again.
Yes, that was it. They would rest, and then he could sort things through, take care of business; he was the chief of police, after all.
Feeling in control of himself again, Brian Irons slipped into a light and uneasy doze, Beverly's cool flesh like a balm against his feverish brow.
X
The precinct was a nightmare compared to what it had once been. Shattered glass, chunks of wood and shell casings littered the blood soaked carpet with a body here and there that looked half eaten. Crimson handprints smeared on the walls from the unknown number of victims that had been claimed.
'Poor bastards.' Ethan thought as he looked over the corpse of an RPD officer. The bloody name tag reading A. Miller, it must have been Allen Miller, one of the desk cops from the lower floor.
The small waiting room where the body had been found was close to the hallway leading to chief Iron's office. The path blocked off by fire and wreckage from the downed helicopter that crashed through the roof.
Even though he knew what was hidden in the man's space, and where it would lead to, the traveler refused to go anywhere until they managed to find Sherry. From what he could remember of the layout, there were a lot of places for her to hide and the number of vents spread out through the station would make it easier for her to get around unnoticed.
She could be anywhere at that point, he only hoped that they crossed paths before something else got to her first.
"Found it!" Claire called out as she took a small fire extinguisher from behind the desk in the waiting room and set it on the counter.
Ethan nodded as he stood back up, "Here, trade you." he said tossing the full clip of 9mm rounds he found on the body to her before taking the fire suppressant and heading out into the blocked off corridor.
Slipping the spare ammo into her fest, the younger Redfield followed after him as he approached the end of the hall where the flames were eating away at the walls and floor. Shotgun slipped into the holster on his back, he took the extinguisher in both hands and doused the blaze with the oxygen killing agent.
White, snowy substance covering every surface as the teen used the whole canister to combat the fire until it was completely out. Tossing the extinguisher aside before drawing his Samurai Edge.
"You still haven't explained why we're heading this way first." said Claire as they moved carefully across the charred floor, boots crunching on burnt wood and debris as they approached a blackened door that had a few embers still eating at it.
"Most of the station's locked down pretty tight thanks to the outbreak. We won't get far without a key, and Irons has a master one stashed in his office." Ethan explained as he kicked the burnt door in, reducing it to blackened splinters and revealing the short, empty hallway beyond.
Weapons raised and ready, the duo walked slowly through the smokey haze that filled the air. Approaching the plain door at the end on the left that was unlocked, Ethan pushed the entrance open and stepped inside with Claire right behind them as they entered the lavish office of the Raccoon City police chief.
The Traveler had only been in Irons' office once or twice before, both times had been under very tense circumstances, but it was hard to ignore the overly extravagant decore the chief put into his work area.
The room looked like some kind of men's club from the fifties. Heavy mahogany book shelves and matching tables surrounding a small sitting area with padded leather chairs and a low marble table. All of which sat atop a very expensive rug with chandelier hanging from the ceiling above that cast a rich glow on the many framed pictures and stuffed animal heads on the walls.
Though none of this even registered in Ethan's mind as he looked at the massive desk across from him and Claire. Along with the still figure that was laid across the surface like a character out of some horror story.
A young woman, very beautiful with long blonde hair wearing a white gown that complemented her figure. However, her stomach had been torn open, her intestines ripped to shreads and exposed for all to see.
Hearing his companion gasp softly beside him, Ethan kept his weapon raised at the high-backed chair that was turned away from them as it turned around to reveal Chief Irons. His own sidearm in hand as he aimed right back at them.
For a second, no one moved. Then the man slowly lowered his weapon, a sickly half-smile stretched across his face. "I'm terribly sorry, I thought you were more zombies." he said in that oily false voice that was remanisant of a politician.
Ethan immediately took notice of the man's features. His cheeks were flushed, eyes bloodshot and darting around the room like a trapped animal, rimmed with puffy white flesh. The not so subtle way he twitched his fingers and facial muscles was an immediate red flag for severe paranoia and mental imbalance.
'He's a fucking space-cadet...' the traveler thought, lowering his own weapon as well as to not set Irons off. Looking at the woman's corpse briefly before going back to the chief himself. "Chief Irons, your still alive." he said trying to sound offhanded.
Irons nodded sluggishly, "I am, and so are you it seems." he replied looking at the ex-STARS before glancing at Clair. "I see you've brought company with you. But it makes no difference how many are still alive...soon you'll all end up just like the others..."
He looked down at the woman on his desk with an expression that disturbed Ethan. "The mayor's daughter. I was supposed to look out for her, but I failed miserably...Just look at her. She was a true beauty, her skin nothing short of perfection. But it will soon putrefy...and within the hour, she'll become one of those things. Just like the others."
"There must be a way that can stop it." said Claire. Honestly, the look she was seeing on Irons' face was making her skin crawl, but she was trying to stay on the opptomisitc side of the situation.
"There is, in a manner of speaking." said the Chief. "A bullet to the brain, or decapitation." he looked up from the body at the animal heads on the wall. "And to think taxidermy used to be a hobby of mine...no longer."
Keeping his grip on the Samurai Edge in his hand, Ethan realized just how unstable the man had become in all this madness.
Though he felt no pity or sympathy for the man that had been taking a paycheck from Umbrella on the side, and using his power to shut down the claims he and the others brought forth before suspending them. Not to mention the countless claims that had been brought up against him in the past and the endless cover-ups he had done involving the murders that led to the missions to the Arklay mountains.
Infact, he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in the man's head for his part in what happened to Raccoon city. Selling out Birkin and his research to Umbrella which resulted in the unleashing of both the T and G Virus' on the populace.
But right now, he had more important things to worry about. And right now the Chief wasn't worth the bullet.
"Please, I would like to be alone now." Irons said in a very low tone as he slumped back against his chair.
The duo looked to one another, when they heard a soft creaking sound coming from the other doorway in the room beside the one they came through. Ethan motioned with his head toward the door before looking back at the desk where he saw the master key for the station sitting beside the corpse Irons had laid out.
Seeing that the Chief still wasn't moving, lost in his own little world and not taking into account the world that was around him. The traveler took the two steps toward the desk and took the key before heading over to the door that Claire was already stepping through. Leaving the office behind them as they traversed down another corridor.
Hearing running footsteps somewhere farther down. Small running footsteps.
'Sherry!' Ethan thought loudly as they started running after the noise.
X
Sherry Birkin had been hiding for a long time in the police station, for what must have been three or four days, and hadn't seen her mother yet. Not once, not even when there had still been a lot of people left.
She'd found Mrs. Addison right after she'd gotten there, one of the teachers from school, but Mrs. Addison had died. A zombie had eaten her. And not long after that, Sherry had found a ventilation shaft that ran over most of the whole building, and had decided that hiding was safer than staying with the grownups, because the adults kept dying, and because there was a monster in the station even worse than the zombies or the inside-out men, and she was pretty sure that the monster was looking for her.
That was probably stupid, she didn't think that monsters picked out just one person to go for, but then again, she'd never thought that monsters were real, either.
So Sherry had stayed hidden, mostly in the knight room; there weren't any dead people there, and the only way to get in, besides the ventilation shaft behind the suits of armor, was to go down a long hall guarded by a giant tiger. The tiger was stuffed, but it was still scary and Sherry thought that maybe the tiger would scare away the monster. Part of her knew that that was dumb, but it made her feel better anyway.
Since the zombies had taken over everything in the police station, she'd spent a lot of time sleeping.
When she was asleep, she didn't have to think about what might have happened to her parents or worry about what was going to happen to her. The air shaft was pretty warm, and she had plenty to eat from the candy machine downstairs, but she was scared, and even worse than being scared was being lonely, so mostly she'd just slept.
She'd been asleep, warm and curled up behind the knights, when she'd been awakened by a tremendous crash somewhere outside. She was sure it was the monster; she'd only caught a glimpse of it once before, of the giant's broad and terrible back, through a steel grate, but she'd heard it screaming and howling through the building many times since then. She knew that it was terrible, terrible and violent and hungry.
Sometimes it disappeared for hours at a time, letting her hope that it had given up, but it always came back, and no matter where Sherry was, it always seemed to appear somewhere close by.
The loud noise that had ripped her from her dreamless sleep was like the sound a monster would make tearing the walls down, and she'd huddled in her hiding place, ready to dart back into the shaft if the sound came any closer.
It didn't. For a long time she didn't move, waiting with her eyes squeezed shut, holding on to her good luck charm - a beautiful gold pendant that her mother had given her only last week, so big that it filled up her whole hand. As it had before, the charm worked; the loud, terrible noise hadn't been repeated.
Or maybe the big tiger had kept the monster from finding her. Either way, when she'd heard gentle thumping sounds in the office, she'd felt safe enough to creep out of the case and go out into the hall to listen. The zombies and inside-out men couldn't use doors, and if it was the monster, it would have come for her already, clawing down doors and screaming for blood.
It has to be a person. Maybe Mom ...
Halfway down the hall, where it turned right, she'd heard people talking in the office and felt a burst of hope and loneliness mixed together. She couldn't tell what they were saying, but it was the first time she'd heard anybody who wasn't yelling for maybe two days. And if there were people talking, maybe it was because help had finally come to Raccoon.
The army or the government or the Marines, maybe all of them . . .
Excited, she hurried down the hall and was next to the big snarling tiger, right by the door, when her excitement faltered. The voices had stopped. Sherry stood very still, suddenly anxious. If people had come to Raccoon to help, wouldn't she have heard the planes and trucks? Wouldn't there be shooting and bombs and men with loudspeakers telling everybody to come out?
Maybe those voices aren't army people at all; maybe those voices are Bad People. Crazy, like that one man...
Not long after Sherry had gone into hiding, she'd seen a terrible thing through a grating that led into a locker room. A tall man with red hair had been in the room, talking to himself and rocking back and forth in a chair. At first, Sherry had thought about asking him for help, to find her parents, but something about the way he was talking and giggling and gently swaying back and forth made her wary, so she'd watched him for a while from the safe darkness of the air shaft. He'd been holding a big knife. And after a long time, still laughing and mumbling and rocking, he'd stabbed himself in the stomach. Sherry had been more scared by that man than by the zombies, because it didn't make sense. He'd been crazy, and he'd killed himself and she'd crawled away, crying because it just didn't make any sense.
She didn't want to meet anyone else like that. And even if the people in the office were okay, they might take her away from her safe place and try to protect her, and that would mean her death, because the monster surely wasn't afraid of adults.
It felt awful to turn away, but there was no other choice. Sherry started back for the armor room...
Creak!
... and froze as the floor shifted underfoot. The sound of the creaking board seemed incredibly loud and she held her breath, clutching her pendant and praying that the door wouldn't come flying open behind her, that some crazy wouldn't charge in and get her.
She didn't hear anything, but felt sure that the pounding of her heart would give her away, it was so loud. After a full ten seconds, she carefully started back down the hall, stepping as lightly as she could, feeling like she was creeping out of a cave filled with sleeping snakes. The hall back to the armor room seemed like it was a mile long, and she had to use all of her willpower not to run once she reached the turn, but if there was one thing she'd learned from the movies and TV, it was that running from danger always meant a horrible death.
When she finally reached the entrance back to the armor room, she felt like she might just collapse from relief. She was safe again, she could snuggle back into the old blanket that Mrs. Addison had found for her and just...
The door from the office opened, opened and closed. And a second later, there were footsteps.
Coming for her.
Sherry flew into the armor room, no longer thinking about anything at all in the bright and trembling crush of panic that swept through her. She sprinted past the three knights, forgetting her safe place because all she knew was that she had to get away, get as far away as possible. There was a dark, tiny chamber past the glass case in the middle of the room and darkness was what she needed, a shadow to disappear into...
... and she could hear the running footsteps somewhere behind her, pounding over wood as she hurtled into the dark room and into the farthest corner.
Sherry crouched down between the dusty brick of the room's fireplace and the padded chair beside it and tried to make herself as small as possible, hugging her knees and hiding her face.
'Please please please don't come in, don't see me, I'm not here...' she prayed to herself as she tried to make herself as small as possible.
The running footsteps had come into the armor room and were slow now, hesitant, moving around the big glass case in the middle. Sherry thought of her safe place, the mouth of the ventilation shaft that could have taken her away, and struggled to hold back hot tears of self-condemnation. The fireplace room had no escape; she was trapped.
Each hollow, thumping steps coming in different directions. There was more than one. And each sound in the silence brought them closer to the dark room in which Sherry hid. She scrunched herself tighter, making promises that she would do anything, anything at all if only the strangers would go away...
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Suddenly, the room flashed into blinding brightness, the soft click of the light switch lost beneath Sherry's terrified cry. She pushed away from her corner and ran, screaming and unseeing, hoping to get past whoever was there and back to the air shaft...
... a large, warm hand grabbed her arm, tight, keeping her from going one more step. She screamed again, jerking as hard as she could, but the stranger was strong...
"Let me go!" Sherry wailed, but whoever was still holding on held firm, even pulling her closer.
"Easy, easy! I'm not a zombie, take it easy, it's okay..." It was a man's voice, soothing, the words crooned gently, the hand on Sherry's wrist warm and strong but not enough to hurt her. "... easy, little darlin. Everything's okay, I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe now." came the voice again, this time with a very small hint of an accent to it.
Sherry finally looked at the one holding her. He was tall, wearing all back with body armor and a lot of guns. A head of short, soft-brown hair and a pair bright blue eyes looked at her with kindness. He wasn't like that man from before, and he wasn't a zombie.
And just like that, Sherry stopped trying to get away and felt the hot tears trickle down her face, tears that she'd been holding back ever since she'd seen the red-haired man commit suicide. She instinctively hugged the stranger and he hugged her back, strong arms tight but comforting across Sherry's trembling shoulders.
Sherry cried for a couple of minutes, letting the man stroke her hair and whisper soothing words to her, and at last, she felt like the worst was over. As much as she wanted to crawl into the man's arms and forget all of her fears, to believe that she was safe, she knew better. And besides, she wasn't a baby anymore; she'd turned twelve last month.
With an effort, Sherry stepped away from the stranger and wiped her eyes, taking notice that he wasn't alone. There was also a woman standing right next to him, her eyes were soft with concern and sympathy.
The woman wasn't that old, maybe only twenty or so, and was dressed really cool, boots and cutoff pink denim shorts and a matching vest with no sleeves. She wore her shiny brown hair in a ponytail, and when she smiled, she looked like a movie star.
"What's your name?" asked the man catching her attention again.
Sherry felt shy suddenly, embarrassed for running and then trying to get away from such nice people. Her parents had often told her that she acted like an emotional baby, that she was 'too imaginative' for her own good, and here was proof. They weren't going to hurt her, she could tell.
"Sherry Birkin," she said, and smiled at them, hoping that they weren't mad at her; they didn't look mad. In fact, they looked pleased with Sherry's answer.
"Sherry. My name's Ethan, and my friend here is Claire. We're here to help." Ethan said in the same gentle tone he had used before.
"Do you know where your parents are?" Claire asked, in a similar, sweet tone.
"They work at the Umbrella chemical plant, just outside of town," Sherry said.
"Chemical plant... then what are you doing here?" asked Ethan.
"My mom called, and told me to go to the police station. She said it was too dangerous to stay at home." replied the girl.
Claire nodded. "From the look of things, she was probably right. But it's dangerous here, as well. . ." she frowned thoughtfully, then smiled again. "You'd better come with us."
Sherry felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach, and shook her head, wondering how to explain to them that it wasn't a good idea, that it was a very bad idea. She wanted more than anything not to be alone anymore, but it just wasn't safe.
'If I go with them and the monster finds us. . .' she thought now terrified.
"Sherry? What's wrong?" asked the traveler when he saw the pale look on her young face.
"There's something out there," she said finally. "I saw it, it's bigger than the zombies. And it's coming after me."
Ethan knew what might be after her, infact he knew of a lot of things that could be after her. But she couldn't go wondering around on her own anymore. "Whatever it is, it won't get to you." he said getting her full attention. "Believe me, Sherry, I've fought some pretty big and nasty things in the past. And I've handled zombies pretty well too."
She looked up in his eyes and knew right away that she could trust him. But she still wasn't sure. Ethan looked strong, and Claire look like she could handle things too, but the monster she had seen was something she didn't want them to face.
They could die, and she'd be alone again. She didn't want that to happen.
Claire opened her mouth to say something, probably to try and talk her into changing her mind as well, when a terrible, furious sound filled the room, echoing in violent waves from somewhere in the building.
"RRRAAAHH!"
The ex-STARS had his weapon up and ready, looking around for what could have made the noise, and had a feeling of what it could be as the roar faded off into the walls. "We need to get moving, that sounded close."
"That's what I was telling you about." Sherry gasped out as she turned to run toward her hiding place. Only to be stopped when Claire managed to grab her. "No! It's coming after me! We'll all be killed!" she screamed trying to break free.
"Sherry you can't go running off again! It's too dangerous!" the younger Redfield tried to explain, but the girl only pulled harder.
"I have to hide! Have to get away! It will come for me again!" Sherry started crying as she kept trying to break free and run. She suddenly stopped when she was pulled into another strong hug.
Ethan held her to his chest, easing her fears once again before he started speaking. "I won't let anything happen to you." he said with powerful conviction in his voice. He pulled back and looked into her frightened eyes, "We're getting out of here, all of us, alive. And whatever is after you will have to go through me first."
"And me." added Claire. "We'll keep you safe."
Sherry looked between them with tears in her eyes, "Y-You promise?" she asked weakly.
The ex-STARS hesitated. There wasn't no guarantees, especially with the state of things. But Sherry was holding onto a small sliver of hope, she'd seen too much for someone her age and would forever be changed because of it.
And right now, she needed something to believe in. And he'd be damned if he let that last bit of hope die like that.
"I promise." he said with every ounce of seriousness in his being. Brushing a bit of blonde hair off her forehead. "No matter what happens, I always keep my promises." Sherry burrowed her face in his neck and hugged him with all the strength she had.
His words giving her strength and a sense of safety. And giving her the belief that everything was going to be alright.
X
Taking some time to get themselves together, the now group of three left the armor room and made their way back to Chief Irons' office.
Ethan was leading them, Sherry in the middle with Claire bringing up the rear. The young Redfield holding the teen's shotgun, having been given it along with plenty of shells for it so that she had a backup weapon instead of just her Beretta.
"I got the master key for the station." said Ethan as they passed the taxidermy tiger by the office door. "We'll gather a few supplies before heading out. I got the layout of the building filed to memory and I know a few ways we can escape without too much trouble."
He paused and looked back at Claire, "I still owe you an explination of what's going on. And I'll give you the full rundown when we get somewhere that's safe enough. If you can trust me a bit more until then."
Claire nodded slowly, "I have no reason to distrust you at this point, and you seem to know more about what's going on. So I have no issues right now."
Ethan nodded back to her as they entered the office. Coming to a stop when they found that Irons and the corpse of the Mayor's daughter were both gone.
"Where'd he go?" asked Claire looking around for any sight of the man who had lost his mind.
"Don't know, but we have other priorities right-"
THUMP!
Ethan stopped mid-sentence and aimed his pistol at the ceiling after the heavy, hollow vibration that rattled hard enough the chandelier in the office tremble. The sound didn't repeat itself, but it sounded like something had been dropped onto the roof. Something big.
The traveler felt Sherry cling to his leg as she shook, eyes locked on the ceiling like theirs were.
CRUNCH! The ceiling cracked loudly, plaster and wood splintering in all directions as something slammed hard on the other side. Another one soon followed causing the cracks to widen and spread farther.
"Move." Ethan said just loud enough for them to hear, eyes and weapon still trained on the ceiling as they started to slowly tread back toward the exit. Barely making it a few steps when there was a thunderous crash as the roof caved into the office.
Dust and debris blasting in all directions, blinding them for a moment or two as everything settled. Blinking the dust out of his eyes, the ex-STARS could make out a massive form shrouded in the center of the room.
The chandelier had fallen to the floor, the lights going out, but the light from the hallway behind them was enough to illuminate the thing that had made the entrance. And when it turned around, Ethan felt his blood freeze in his veins. "...shit..."
"SSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAARRRRRRRRSSSSSS!"
A/N: And that's how you restart a story! I'm working on one hell of a fusion between the books and several games to bring this portion of the story to life. So there's going to be a lot of changes and moments that you won't be expecting, so be prepared guys.
I miss the reviews from my fellow Resident Evil fans, and I look forward to reading yours again. See you next time!
