Never in her life had Dr. Annette Jennifer Birkin felt more distant from her own body.
Everything around her was becoming more and more blurry, so blurry it was easier for her to just squeeze her eyes shut than to fight the waves of nausea washing over her when they were open. She knew just enough to be aware of her daughter screaming back at Claire to hurry. Claire, the young woman carrying her now. Every so often, she felt hyper aware of her body weak and limp against the young woman's muscular arms, only to feel separated and numbed from the acute pain in her side only a few seconds later. Ten minutes. How much of that time had passed? Ten minutes. There were ten minutes to get out of the laboratory facility. How long did they have? Her head was beginning to pound so badly against her skull that Annette was almost sure the time had already passed, or would be soon. She wasn't sure. She couldn't tell. Ringing. The heavy rhythm of running footsteps. Yelling. Shrill cries of the alarm system. All of it. A cacophony of sound, a complete attack on the senses, and nothing short of horrible. Too warm. Too cold. Every other minute, it seemed, the temperature of her body changed and she felt worse. When her eyes opened at the awful screeching of metal against metal as a piece of the ceiling behind them fell in, she could have sworn she was about to die.
She didn't.
It wasn't just Annette who felt as though they would be overtaken by the noise around them, no matter how far away from the noise they got. Her body feeling weaker and weaker as she tried to keep going, carrying Annette, knowing she could not leave her behind. Not with Sherry. Not when she had a child who needed her. Claire tightening her hold around Annette, her breathing more and more constricted when she met Sherry outside of the laboratory building. The sirens of the alarm system still blaring, she felt sick, about ready to puke, but relieved when she stumbled over to an abandoned police car just a few feet away from the entrance. Hands clenched around the key Claire had given her, Sherry pulled open the door and held it open to give Claire as much space as possible to help get her mother safely into and strapped into the police car. The second she was secure, Sherry, shaking badly, hugged her mother before opening one of the doors to the back of the car, all but diving into it and curling into herself the second after she buckled herself in. Barely able to breathe, Claire collapsed on the ground mere seconds after she closed the passenger side door. The screeching of the alarm system seemed to get louder.
She forced herself up off the ground.
Snatching the key to the car off the ground where Sherry had dropped it, Claire clenched it in her hands and rushed around to the other side of the car, darting into the driver's seat. Jamming the key into the ignition, slamming the door shut, and clicking the seatbelt on, and swiftly pulling out from the area. Her mind wouldn't stop rushing, either; the speed of the car and the speed of her mind seemed almost aligned. There was one hospital in the area still open, according to Leon, who had apparently gotten the word from Ada. Claire gritted her teeth. Ada. She's sketchy as hell. And Sherry seems terrified of her. What's her deal? Who is she, really? She glanced at the speedometer. 95 MPH. She slowed down a little. She tried not to think too hard about how uncomfortable and pained Annette sounded, mumbling every so often to her and Sherry. Hands tightening around the steering wheel, Claire tried to tune it out, focus on where she was going. The hospital building began to tower and materialise out from the shadows. The sky was only just beginning to become light, and it was hazy. The entire city was hazy. She could still smell smoke, and she was sure the flames rising up farther and farther behind her were from the laboratory. The second she saw light coming from inside the hospital as she pulled into the ER reception, relief began blooming in her chest. Cutting the ignition, she didn't bother to care she was in the fire lane.
"Is my mom –" Sherry called after Claire when she jumped out of the car.
"I'm fine, Sherry," Annette mumbled, dark spots marring her vision. She began shaking when Claire pulled her out of the car. "I love you, baby."
Resisting the urge to kick the door to the ER open, knowing she had to be careful to not drop Annette, Claire pushed herself forward, running even though it hurt. Sherry, who had held the doors open for her, soon ran ahead of her, yelling for someone – anyone – to come help her mother. She let out a cry of relief when it wasn't long before a young woman in a medical coat and scrubs came running down the stairs, her face going pale when she saw Annette in Claire's arms and Sherry's state. Clarie's chest began to rise and fall heavily, but it didn't take long for her to see the woman wasn't infected. She followed after her as quick as she could, letting her take over and lay Annette down on a hospital bed in the nearby ICU. Collapsing on the floor, her body aching, Claire tried to calm herself, taken by surprise by how quickly the woman worked to hook Annette onto the machines, getting her vitals, putting her on a ventilator and IV. Sherry sat down next to her mother, beginning to sob uncontrollably and rocking herself, the true gravity of her mother's state setting in. Sudden terror of any of the infected breaking in, and not entirely convinced there weren't any in the hospital, Claire forced herself back onto her feet again, and locked the doors into the ward. Tired and weary, she began to pace, briefly, before sitting down on a small couch when her limbs began to painfully ache. Her mind reeling again, everything seemed to blur, so much so she didn't realise she was being spoken to.
"Claire Redfield?" The woman said, reading quickly over Annette's vitals. "Chris' little sister?"
Claire startled. "How do you know that?" She blurted out. "Did I –"
"No, don't worry, you didn't say anything," The woman sighed heavily and looked to Sherry. "Do you have the same blood type as her, by chance? This ID," She gestured to the ID card still attached to Annette's lab coat. "It's rare, and –"
"She does," Annette barely got out, her voice almost no more than a faint whisper. "She's my daughter."
The woman nodded and turned back to Sherry. "May I take some of your blood? She desperately needs a blood transfusion."
Sherry nodded immediately, her eyes puffy from the tears, but Claire cut in.
"She had the G-Virus," She told the woman. "What if she gives it to –"
"She was clear," Annette rasped. "Clear…back in the…lab."
The woman stood up quickly and ran over to the medical cart on the other side of the room, prepping the blood bag and needles while she walked back over, pushing the cart with her. Within no more than a few minutes, she sterilized the needles and took Sherry's arm. As quickly and gently as she could, the woman cleaned the area around the vein, steadying her hands and holding the young girl's arm still. Then, slowly, she began to draw blood from her, and the bag started to fill. The woman tensed upon seeing Annette's vitals start to waver again but maintained her training, waiting until it was safe to pull the needle out of Sherry's arm and bandage it up. Then, she stood up again, walked around to the other side of Annette, sterilised the secondary IV needle, numbed and cleaned the area near her vein, and then quickly pushed the needle into her. Annette whimpered, her entire body in terrible pain. She winced when the woman pushed the sides of her coat away from her and pulled up her shirt to where she had been stabbed in the side by William, letting out another pained cry when the woman applied rubbing alcohol and prepared to start stitching it up.
"This may hurt a little," The woman warned her, speaking softly. "I'm so sorry. Luckily, I think, this should be your worst injury, from a glance, and…the others should be more manageable once you're a little more stable."
"Is mommy going to be okay?" Sherry sniffed.
"Yes," Claire kindly told her, setting a hand reassuringly to her shoulder.
"I am doing my best," The woman told her. "I hope so."
Claire looked between the two of them, uneasily wringing her hands in and out of each other. She grimaced a little when she saw a brief flash of pain crossing Annette's face with every thread of the needle in and out of her side. I'm going to claw your eyes out the next time I see you, Chris, if I have to carry any other blood soaked scientists. Reaching into her pocket, she let out a sigh of relief when she found a few sticks of chewing gum still in them. Taking a few out, she began to chew on them, trying to place the woman stitching up Annette. She swallowed hard, clenching her gum between her molars, looking at the woman closely. Her eyes went wide in sudden recognition, but she quickly looked to Sherry. Sniffling again, the twelve year old relaxed a little at Claire gently squeezing her shoulder. Hunger and dizziness starting to ebb at her, the twelve year old smiled a little when Claire took out a small bag of trail mix and handed it to her after getting it open. She gagged a little when the needle was removed from her arm and the woman returned to stitching up her mother's side before preparing the transfusion. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and tried to focus on nibbling on the trail mix more than the lingering throbbing in her arm, staring down at her feet as she pulled them up to her chest, while Claire, and the woman, and her mother…
"Rebecca?" Claire said, her fingers snapping for a second when the woman briefly nodded. "Damn it, I thought everyone from STARS had left the city. Chris –"
"Chris left yesterday night after getting into a fight with Chief Irons," Rebecca told her, barely looking up as she kept tightly stitching Annette's wound. "I'm pretty sure I'm the only member of Bravo Team to have survived the shit that went down at the mansion…as for Alpha Team, I think all of them except Brad survived. Jill went to DC, last I heard, Barry went back to Texas to be with his family…and I don't know about Wesker, other than I hope the fucker is dead."
"I do…too…" Annette mumbled, quietly swearing as Rebecca made her way farther up her side.
"What'd he do?" Claire said, glancing between her and Annette. "Chris was annoyed with him when we last talked, before I came into the city, but –"
"Attempted murder, corporate espionage, illegal human experimentation, progenitor of, presumably, several bio-organic weapons, including the T-Virus, could all be charged on him, and would be, I imagine, accurate," Rebecca coldly told her, eyes narrowing at her handiwork. "The latter of which is what got out in the city, in case no one told you. If you don't want to kill him, I – and I'm sure your brother and the rest of STARS – will be more than willing to. Believe me, he's more than earnt it."
Claire bit her lip. "Great," She muttered. "Still –"
"For the time being, if you don't mind, could you allow me to finish before I try to explain anything else?" Rebecca let out a heavy sigh as she reached the end of the stab wound on Annette's side and finished closing it up. "I need to focus."
Claire fell silent and looked away, feeling sick at the endless beeping. Whispering directions to herself under her breath, Rebecca reached for the blood she had drawn from Sherry and began preparing the transfusion. Uneasy with not running tests on the girl's blood but doubtful she had many better options, after a moment of hesitation, Rebecca hastened to begin the transfusion. There isn't always time for every protocol being strictly followed in an emergency, Bex. Either this, running around to try and find her blood type in storage, or letting her die. As gently as she could, she inserted the needle, and tried not to let herself become distracted. Annette was conscious, if barely. The worst of her wounds was closed, from the outside. Offsetting the blood loss would give time to assess and close up any others. Out of the corners of her eyes, she watched the young girl – Sherry – curling into herself, still nibbling slowly on trail mix. One of the girl's hands tightly entwined with her mother's. When her mother weakly squeezed hers to try to reassure her, Sherry looked about ready to break down in sobs again. Carefully, checking to ensure the transfusion was in even progress, Rebecca made her way between them and began to wrap gauze dipped in rubbing alcohol tightly around Annette's midsection to keep the stitches secure. She whispered an apology under her breath when Annette let out a small yelp of pain from the movement, but kept going; hand over hand, protocol over protocol.
"I need you conscious as long as possible," Rebecca said, glancing to Annette who, struggling, managed a faint nod. "If your vision is spotty, that is probably from blood loss. I'll do the best I can, but I want to get you to Chicago or, I should say, need to get you to Chicago."
"Chicago?" Sherry repeated, free hand shaking as she kept eating the trail mix. "But that's an hour and a half –"
"It's the nearest city, and not optional," Rebecca said, shifting to take Annette's vitals again. "The federal government and Illinois National Guard have issued an order of evacuation that expires in a little less than two days. Last I turned the news on, the President said he'll declare martial law for Raccoon City after that and, essentially, the military are going to come in to clean up the city, take samples of the viruses causing this mess to the FBI, and either condemn it or find some way to make it hospitable."
Sherry squeaked. "The federal government are getting involved?"
"I wish I were joking," Rebecca said with a short shake of her head. "But I'm only here still because I had a few things I wanted to grab from the hospital before I left. Really, you're all incredibly lucky to have not walked into a ghost town. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, she'll be able to be moved to Chicago…but we'll have to be on the move in, to be safe, thirty six hours. That's what I have to work with."
"But my mom is going to be alright, isn't she?" Sherry pressed, scooting in her chair to be as close to her mother as she could. "And the –"
"If we can get her to Chicago, seeing as there's more than one hospital in the city and staffed by more than a medical student and former police officer, I would be inclined to say yes," Rebecca said, swearing under her breath when some of Annette's vitals began to flutter. "That is my hope, but I can't make any promises. That's not how medicine works."
"For fuck's sake," Claire swore, rubbing at her temples as she closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Why did this have to happen? This wasn't what I'd signed up for when I decided to come visit my asshat brother."
"This isn't what anyone thought would happen, Claire," Rebecca told her, trying to keep the edge out of her voice. "But it is what it is. I'm going to try and handle this – handle Dr. Birkin – and get you all, and myself, the hell out of here before we're looking down the barrel of a gun. This city is over."
"Guess it's a good thing I don't have a bunch of fond memories I'll be morose without the chance to relive them," Claire said, giving Sherry a half smile when she laughed. "I don't know if it means anything to you, but Irons is dead. I…had the misfortune of seeing his corpse."
Rebecca glanced at her, an eyebrow raised.
"How did he die?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but he was…" Claire recoiled a bit at the thought. "He was in his office, and the mayor's daughter was there too, also dead, and…I'm pretty sure some of what was in his office were either taxidermised human beings or something equally disturbing."
Rebecca snorted. "Most of us in STARS were pretty sure the man was a serial killer and serial rapist. I have no desire to confirm or refute that, but I wouldn't be surprised by it. Irons, also, deserved to die. Let's hope this damned T-Virus ate Wesker alive so we can be rid of the both of them."
"Wesker was always scary," Sherry half heartedly put in. "He and dad worked together for years, though, so I thought he…"
"So I've heard," Rebecca sighed. "Claire, if you are feeling up to it, do me a favour and go find some food and water. I'm sure all of us will need it and I really ought to stay here with Dr. Birkin."
"Fine," Claire said, a bit wobbly when she first stood up. "Any ideas on where to start looking?"
"Cafeteria, offices, or break rooms. Just do us all a favour and try not to bring us back anything that looks even marginally questionable. If it looks or smells like meat, don't grab it. Ideally, non-perishable goods and bottled water. That enough?"
"It is," She said, pausing to pat Sherry on the shoulder. "You and your mom are going to be alright. Rebecca won't let her die. Just do what she asks you to, and it'll be fine."
Rebecca gave her a faint smile when she turned to back to her before heading out of the room. "Remember your list!" She called after her.
"Not a problem!" Claire called back. "I'll have you know, I went to college and enough parties to remember more!"
Her hands flicked back to fix the elastic holding her hair back up in a ponytail and, then, she was gone.