Hours passed since Jill Valentine had seen anyone from her team. She felt like she might be the only one left alive in the entire mansion. She counted her remaining bullets. Ten. Not good, given how many it had taken to down the last one who'd attacked her. Like most of the others, it was wearing a filthy white lab coat, its bruised skin falling off its arms and face in sheets. It ignored the rounds she put into him, except the last two, which landed in his head.
It didn't help that the mansion was filled with rotting things and that the hallways, passages, and stairwells seemed specially designed to force her into confrontations. The latter notion certainly sounded crazy, but wasn't so far-fetched given all the demented death traps and puzzles she'd deal with since separating from the others.
She stopped over a pool of blood on the floor, felt the red stuff in her own veins come to a halt. She'd been here before, the bullet hole she'd left in the ugly painting by the door was proof. The shot had gone wide, over the dripping maniac's shoulder, while her other three bullets went into his face. He'd been dressed in a dirty brown jumpsuit, a janitor or technician of some kind, and had been stone dead when she'd left him. There was no sign of him now, and rather than smears or drag lines in the blood, all she saw was a pair of clawed footprints.
Her legs and arms felt light, her head airy. She knew this feeling. It wasn't panic, exactly, but it was close, and it would get her killed if she didn't do something to make it go away. She knew exactly what would work, but had to find somewhere nice and secret to do it. She didn't fear being caught by the monsters so much as she did Chris or, God forbid, Barry, catching her in the act.
She was getting hotter, searching around for a small room, one where she could block the door. At the rate she was dripping it would only take a few minutes, she thought she might need a towel, or a mop, soon.
She was near where she remembered seeing a medical supply room when her nostrils flared; a certain odor had come into her nose, one she remembered vividly from her wild days as a teenager, and then her somewhat milder days as a rent-a-cop at Raccoon U., before she was recruited by STARS.
Green herb.
The smell was strongest near the medical supply room. She walked as quietly as the creaking floorboards would permit, wondering who'd be so irresponsible as to smoke green herb at a time like this. She couldn't imagine anyone on the team lighting up, which meant whoever was in there had probably worked here, and therefore was about to do a lot of talking.
XXX
Rebecca Chambers just finished rolling the joint. Her fingers were steady, but the rest of her body shook at the thought of what she was about to do. Smoking herb was bad enough, smoking it while on duty... she took a deep breath. Considering how her night had gone, she didn't think she was out of line her, not now. The entire Bravo Team, except for her, was dead; and there was no sign of anyone from Alpha Team. She was well and truly screwed so she might as well have some fun before some horrible monster or zombie found her, right?
She stuck the joint between her lips and ignited the brass lighter she'd found in one of the other rooms. Out of habit, she shielded the flame with her hand as she lit the end of the joint and breathed in. She realized she'd screwed up right away. What normally began as a buzzing in the back of her head this time went off like a loose firework at an overcrowded house party, sending her brain cells running in all directions while sirens and lights pulled up outside.
It figured that Umbrella Inc., would have the best herb around, but this was insane, she thought as she coughed her lungs up like a nerd. Her mind raced. Maybe it was this very herb that had caused the mess in this place? Some weird new strain that melted people's brains along with their skin. She took another hit. She was always a little paranoid when she smoked, at least at first. None of the papers she'd found, including one researcher's notebook, had said anything about herbs.
She took a long drag from the joint, blew the smoke into the dim, yellow lightbulb just above her head. She'd be over the hump soon, no more paranoia, lost in a pleasant, green fog...
The doorknob turned and while every cell in her body exploded in bright panic, the herb kept her from moving until it was too late. The door opened, in slipped none other than Jill Valentine, gun drawn and pointed at Rebecca. All the medic could do was stand, frozen, holding the smoldering joint like some idiot teenager whose mother had walked in on her like that one time...
Jill lowered her gun, shut the door behind her. "Rebecca?" she hissed. "What the hell are you doing? She waved the smoke away from her face as she stormed over. "Is that... green herb?"
Rebecca looked down at the joint. Was it green herb? She remembered blending it with another kind. Blue, maybe. Man, this stuff was strong. Was any of this even really happening?
"Y-yeah," she stammered. "I'm sorry. I thought everyone was... I found it here, I didn't bring it on the mission!"
Despite her relatively few years on the force, Jill Valentine was known to have developed one hell of a 'cop-look.' Rebecca withered under it now, overcome by the urge to spill all of her dirty little secrets.
"Give it to me," Jill said, before Rebecca could say something revealing. She handed Jill the joint, watcher her take it between her fingers and raise it to her lips for a long draw.
Rebecca felt lighter as Jill coughed.
"Holy... what color is this?"
"Green, with some blue," said Rebecca, only now noticing how much the ancient, dusty lightbulb altered the colors in the room. Jill's beret, for instance, was usually blue, but here in the storeroom it looked a little red.
Jill took another hit, let the smoke out more slowly this time, her chest only hitching near the end. She handed the joint back to Rebecca. "Have you seen Chris or Barry? Or Captain Wesker?"
"No," said Rebecca. "The other Bravos... they didn't make it."
They traded stories, information. Alpha Team had arrived several hours ago, split up, run into the same monsters that had slaughtered the Bravo Team. Jill hadn't seen anyone alive but Rebecca, who'd managed to do some detective work and learned the mansion was the facade for some kind of medical laboratory, probably owned by Umbrella, Inc. There had been an accident somewhere, some contagion had escaped and infected the lab workers, turned them into monsters. The whole place was in some kind of lock-down mode, explaining all the traps and puzzles.
"What do we do?" said Rebecca when it was all laid bare.
There was a glaze over Jill's slate-colored eyes. She shrugged. "I came in here to rub one off," she said with a smirk.
"What?"
Rebecca felt light in the chest. She was used to Jill's little ticks and mannerisms making her feel this way. She'd gotten good at hiding it, especially during the long, boring morning shifts in the STARS office.
"It takes the edge off," said Jill, handing the joint back. "I thought this might work instead, but it's making it worse."
Rebecca stared at the burnt end of the rolling paper, wondering where she'd found it. "Oh," she said, not sure what Jill was trying to tell her.
"Do me a favor," said Jill. "Go stand by the door, keep watch. I'll be quick."
Numbly, Rebecca let Jill slide past her. She went to the door, lit the joint again while listening to Jill undo her pants. Not sure what she was supposed to be looking out for, Rebecca kept taking drags off the joint and imagining what was going on behind her; sounds from a zipper, the snap of an elastic band, Jill's breathing.
"Hey," said Jill, after what felt like an hour.
"Yeah?"
"It's too weird with you just standing there," said Jill. Rebecca's legs wobbled. She wasn't going back out into the hallway alone, no way. "Come over here, do it with me."
Rebecca couldn't believe her ears. She turned, saw Jill sitting against a storage trunk with her hand down the front of her pants. She'd undone the front of her shirt, her neck was flush.
"Like, in front of each other?"
Jill nodded. "I mean, you're cute, and I know you like looking at me in the office," she said. "Hey, you were the one lighting up on a mission, remember?"
Grinning sheepishly, for a moment Rebecca forgot how screwed they really were and looked for a place where she might manage getting off. Jill scooted to her left, leaving a spot atop the trunk. Rebecca hopped up, undid her pants and reached between her legs. Her kitty was soaked. She squeezed it through her panties, felt a deep tightness in her center.
"No big deal, right? Just like at academy," said Jill, her breath heavy.
Rebecca couldn't remember masturbating at all during academy, much less alongside any of the other cadets. She could, however, remember sneaking a stub once and resolved to enjoy herself a little conduct unbecoming of an officer.
Jill let out a low moan. "That's it," she said. "Almost there."
Rebecca watched Jill doing herself, heightening her own pleasure. She pressed hard on her clit, knowing no matter what she did there was no way she'd cum first. Somehow she knew it had to be Jill, that she had to see her cumming before she could...
"Ah, oh, shi..." Jill's back arched, her head shot back, her beret fell off as she grit her teeth to keep from crying out too loud. It was the herb, Rebecca realized. She'd mistaken red for blue, mixed it with green. If the urban legends were true, then...
The orgasm hit Rebecca like a hard kick, nearly knocking her off the storage trunk as she stifled what would have been a full-throated scream. She curled into a ball to keep her body from flying apart as hot bliss tore through her, blowing and burning her out in equal measure.
When it was over, she leaned against Jill, shivering though they were both soaked in sweat.
"Feel better?" said Jill.
Rebecca, who read medical journals the same way other people read dirty magazines, knew the documented effects that orgasms had on pain and stress, but hadn't imagined anything on this level. "Yeah," she said. "What do we do now?"
Jill got up, straightened out her pants. She wouldn't look at Rebecca. "Whether we find the others or not, we need to find a way out of here, so lets focus on that," she said. "Come on. There's a part of the house I haven't been through. Maybe we'll find Captain Wesker."
Swallowing hard, Rebecca got her pants situated. "I don't have many bullets left," she said.
"Neither do I. Guess we'll have to be careful."
She nodded, following Jill into the darkness of the mansion's halls.
