Table of Contents [Report This]
Author's Note: The credit for the story concept goes to my son, who suggested it to me over and over until I finally took him up on the challenge.
Resident Jarod?
by Rebeckah
"It's pretty obvious that there's been another accident."
It was the final line in the story she'd recited in answer to Jarod's questions. The story was strange to the point of being unbelievable, Jarod thought, studying the slender, auburn haired woman sitting on the bed in front of him, but she clearly believed every word. She ignored his introspection and went on with the cleaning of her gun with an obsessive attention to detail.
She reminded him of Parker in many ways. Oh, her hair was lighter and she lacked Parker's inches, but she had the same core of strength and iron determination to survive, no matter what the obstacles were. And her story, while fantastic, lined up perfectly with what he'd already observed in the past few days.
He'd arrived at Raccoon City almost a week ago, just as the first cases of the plague that had quarantined the city began to be noticed. He wasn't sure yet if he should thank Angelo for bringing this place to his attention, or curse him. If he survived the next few days, and managed to escape, he'd decide then. In the meantime, he was going to do his best to investigate the reality of Angelo's e-mail. It contained the carefully reconstructed reports of an incident in a mansion outside the city limits that had wiped out nearly every member of one S.T.A.R.S. unit, and almost half of another.
In fact, the woman before him, Jill Valentine, was one of the chief witnesses he'd hoped to find when he planned this investigation. The coincidence of their meeting, shortly after he'd given up on his search and was about to leave the place, felt uncomfortably like fate. And she'd had the information he'd been looking for, if he could only believe it. He’d seen some of what she was talking about for himself, and he was still wondering about his sanity.
Zombies? The Living Dead? Animals mutating into ravenous, huge, and often virtually unstoppable, creatures? Most of the mutations Jill had mentioned to him were of creatures so vastly changed that she couldn't even tell what they'd been originally.
It was like something from a low-budget B-film. And it was undisputedly happening. No amount of wishful thinking was going to make this nightmare go away.
"Okay, let me see if I've got this all straight." Jarod began.
"Better make it quick, I'm leaving soon." Jill observed, looking up briefly from the collection of objects on her bed.
Jarod realized, with some admiration, that she was cobbling together her own grenades with her spare gunpowder and objects she'd dug up around the hotel. They'd spent the night together, not from any attraction, but from necessity.
Jarod had met up with Jill as she attempted to leave the city, and was detained by the mercenaries Umbrella had hired to find her. They were augmenting the military blockade around the city, with the country's grateful permission. He'd just been turned back by those same men, when the sounds of excitement drew his attention back to the checkpoint.
Even if he hadn't recognized Jill from a picture in his files, he'd have gone to help her. Two gorilla-like men were twisting her arms up behind her while a third removed the black wig she'd used in a vain attempt to conceal her identity. Before they could disarm her, though, Jarod had disabled one man and was engaging another. Jill took care of the third by herself. She'd then coolly appropriated the men's weapons and ammo, and jumped into their jeep before any of the other mercenaries could respond to the commotion.
She hadn't been happy when Jarod jumped in the passenger seat beside her, but she couldn't really complain after his help.
"Can you fire one of these?" She asked, tossing him magnum and putting the jeep into gear.
"Yes." He'd affirmed briefly. He'd done more than one Pretend within the various branches of the military, and he was quite familiar with weapons. "But I'm not prepared to kill these men---yet."
She laughed mirthlessly.
"Do you know what the zombies look like?"
She asked, forcing down the slightly hysterical laughter as she spun the jeep around to head back into the city.
In spite of the martial law, and the fact that the mercenaries were obviously a threat, Jarod was deeply reluctant to return to the beleaguered streets of Raccoon City.
"Zombie?" He had repeated incredulously. "Like from the movies?"
"Close enough." She'd affirmed shortly. "Except that these guys are created by a virus and not black magic. Half of the city must be infected by now, which means that half of the city wants nothing but our blood. You'd better be prepared to use that if you want to tag along with me."
The half-hearted pursuit that had followed them disappeared within moments after they re-entered the strangely menacing city. Jill knew the territory far better than any of the mercenaries, and they weren't too keen on taking on the monstrosities that they'd heard now inhabited the place. But no matter how competent she seemed, Jarod was seriously wondering about her sanity---until she pulled the jeep to a halt in front of a burning pile of cars blocking their progress.
"Damn! I was hoping to make it to the station." She muttered, looking around for an alternative route. There wasn't one. The side streets and alleys had all been blocked, either by accidents, or by human design.
That was when Jarod saw his first zombie. It shuffled out from the shadows of some stairs, its eyes white and filmy and its face utterly blank. Shots rang out next to him as Jill pumped bullet after bullet into the thing's head. It finally dropped, but didn't die until it had dragged itself nearly to them, moaning its hunger the entire time.
"C'mon." She ordered him, taking pity on his obvious shock. "We'll go through that gun shop---maybe we can pick up more ammo from it on our way through."
"It took five shots to the head!" Jarod murmured to himself, following Jill's lead numbly.
"Side effects of the virus. They're nearly impossible to kill and seem to feel no pain." Jill informed him, dodging around a female zombie trying to intercept them. She was in better shape than the other---one eye was actually normal---but there wasn't a trace of intelligence on her face. "Fortunately, it also makes them incredibly slow and clumsy. We wouldn't stand a chance otherwise."
She banged on the shop door, waited about five heartbeats, and then used the butt of her gun to break the window. Jarod fired on the approaching female zombie, fighting to put aside his horror and think clearly. He'd had practice dealing with his fears all of his life, but he'd never faced a situation as appalling as this.
Even now, the memories made him want to shudder uncontrollably. The struggle to fight through the never-ending waves of zombies, to find a safe place, had melded in his mind into one nightmare montage. He still didn't remember exactly how he and Jill had made it to the comparative safety of this hotel. And it was Jill's insistence that had put them up here on the third floor. She'd maintained that they were less likely to encounter zombies upstairs, and claimed that even if there were zombies up here, once they killed them there would be no more. Most zombies simply couldn't climb stairs. It seemed that she had been right, because they'd been left strictly alone, even when she had led him on a foraging run earlier this morning. He dragged his mind back to the present with difficulty.
"Right. Now, Umbrella, Inc. has been experimenting in bio-weapons. A couple of months ago their latest virus escaped and killed the researchers of a hidden complex just outside of town."
"Yep. And more than half of my teammates, and quite a few innocent tourists too."
"But when the rest of you made it back here, no one would believe you?" Jarod questioned dubiously.
"Oh, they believed us, the ones who actually heard our story, but this city is owned by Umbrella. The corporation has bought the mayor, possibly the police chief, and most of the city council. Most of the citizens are only too happy to go along with the official Umbrella line, because Umbrella funded our shiny new hospital and City Hall and other lovely improvements. Hell, half the people here are employed by Umbrella in one way or another."
"So they buried your reports and tried to pretend nothing ever happened."
"Yep. Except that they also tried to get rid of the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members---the ones that didn't die at the mansion."
"But what caused this?" Jarod questioned, waving his arm towards the window to the hotel room to indicate the city outside.
"Like I said," Jill repeated slowly, as if to a particularly stupid child. "There's obviously been another accident."
Satisfied with her preparations, Jill stood up and began distributing her homemade grenades around her person. Her handgun lay gleaming on the bedspread. They'd used up the majority of their ammo just to get this far. Jarod wondered just where she intended to go now, and how she intended to get there alive.
"What are you planning to do now?"
"Only thing I can do---get out of Dodge." She replied tersely, scooping up the gun.
"You're running away?" Jarod was astonished.
"There's nothing left to do. Those people," Jill pointed out the window, "are already dead. It's more important that I get out, with any proof of Umbrella's involvement that I can gather, and carry on the fight to take them down."
"What about a cure?"
"As far as I know, there isn't one. Even if there is one, do you really think Umbrella would volunteer it? They aren't about to admit that this disaster is of their making?"
"You said that Umbrella built the hospital, do you think they were using it as a base to research this --- stuff?"
"Could be." Jill allowed grudgingly, starting towards the door. "But I don't think I'll have the time to check it out. Are you coming with me, Mr. Salk?" Her wry grin made it obvious that she recognized his pseudonym for what it was.
"You're going down there? They'll kill you!" Jarod quailed at the thought of facing the abominations waiting at street level again.
"The zombies failed once with me, I'm betting they'll fail again. I know how to fight them now." She answered calmly. "Besides, this room will only be safe for a short time. Eventually they'll come looking for us, even up here."
"What about going up?" Jarod questioned reasonably. "From what I've seen, the zombies aren't very coordinated. We might be halfway safe if we took to the rooftops."
"It's a sensible idea, but it won't work for me. I'm not tall enough to jump between some of these buildings. Besides, I need ammo, and I'm more likely to find that at street level. If you want to try the roofs, go for it." Jill advised him. "Just remember one thing: “Animals get mutated too…
"At the mansion birds were attacking people like something from a Poe story and there were creatures that I didn't even recognize. There's no telling what you'll run across up there, so be prepared."
"On second thought," Jarod reconsidered, recognizing the voice of experience when he heard it. "I think I'll take my chances with you. But I'm almost out of ammo for this thing."
"I'm headed for the Police Station first to see what weapons I can salvage. You're welcome to anything I don't need. If you run out of bullets along the way, keep the gun anyway. You can use it as a club, if worse comes to worse, and there ought to be munitions there. In the meantime, take this, its better than nothing."
She tossed Jarod a long hunting knife that she'd had strapped to her calf-high boots.
"Stay close." She advised him, cracking the door to check the status in the hallway.
It was empty, for the moment. The longer a person had been infected, the lower their intelligence and coordination became. Since their room was on the third floor, it was unlikely that any new zombies had made their way up three flights of stairs, much less mastered the elevator. On the other hand, any of the other rooms on this floor could have an infected person inside. Somehow, even though their brains were barely functioning and some had cataracts blinding both eyes, the zombies could sense the presence of the living with uncanny speed.
Jill met Jarod's eyes briefly, gave a brisk nod, and eased into the corridor. Jarod mimicked her movements and they both began to tiptoe down the hallway as silently as humanly possible. Halfway to the stairs they heard a sound that raised the hairs on the back of Jarod's neck.
It was a low moan, combining pain and hunger, and accompanied by a particular shuffling sound. One of the doors shivered as the zombie inside began mindlessly banging into it in an attempt to get at the two people it sensed on the other side.
"Shit!" Jill hissed, breaking into a sprint. "We've got to avoid contact as long as possible." She explained as they burst through the doors to the stairwell.
"Ammo's that low?" Jarod asked with understandable concern.
"It's lower than that." Jill admitted grimly. "I've got 15 shots left and these two grenades."
But the bottom of the stairwell was blocked by several more zombies, milling around restlessly, but unable to navigate the stairs up to the people above them. Jill and Jarod backtracked to the second floor, and made their way to the elevator unmolested.
"But they're waiting down there!" Jarod protested when she pushed the button for the lobby.
"As soon as the doors open, make a break for it. I'll try to hold them off."
Jill pulled out a grenade and lit the fuse just as the elevator indicated they'd reached the lobby. But when the doors opened, and the two of them burst out, there were more zombies than either of them had expected. Jill ended up on the right of them and Jarod on the left, near a set of double doors leading to the service portion of the hotel.
"Run, Jarod!" Jill hollered urgently. "It'll explode soon!"
She'd tossed the grenade into the middle of the approaching monsters as she dashed around them.
"I'll try to get to the police station!" Jarod shouted back, ducking towards the double doors. "Go on without me."
The doors had barely swung shut when the homemade bomb went off, taking out most of the creatures in one explosion. Unfortunately for Jarod, three kitchen chefs and several hotel maids were waiting for him, their skin mottled and faces as mindless as the others. All too aware of his lack of ammo, Jarod ducked passed them on the other side of the long counter dividing the kitchen space and slid through the door leading to the back alley. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he realized that it was empty, at least for the moment.
The next two hours merged in his memory as an nightmare mosaic of dread. Dodging the endlessly reaching hands of the walking dead, backtracking time after time as he encountered roadblock after roadblock, and scavenging ammo from the corpses of police, mercenaries, ---even the occasional armed civilian. The horrors were endless and he finally ended up operating more from instinct than intelligence. It saved him countless times, but it almost killed the woman. He almost blew her away when he came across her, simply by reflex.
"Don't shoot! I'm human!" She exclaimed, her brown eyes wide with fright, but the hand holding her berretta on him was as steady as his own magnum.
He assessed her condition with one quick glance. Dirty, disheveled, and tired, she was still relatively unharmed and appeared healthy.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked anyway.
He'd discovered, through an unpleasant encounter earlier, that an infected person could change from relatively normal to zombie in a matter of minutes. But she wasn't scratching herself, which Jarod had learned the hard way was a sure-fire indication of this illness, so her assertion that she felt fine didn't surprise him.
"But that looks bad." She pointed to the sluggishly bleeding tear on his leg. Already the flesh around it was red, swollen and tender.
"I didn't realize it got me!" Jarod was astounded, looking down, to see the injury.
He shuddered, remembering the terror as the corpse he'd blithely walked passed had come to life, snagging his leg and chewing voraciously on his ankle. Another lesson learned the hard way.
"Here." The girl sat him down on the steps of the nearest house and carefully inspected the nasty looking wound.
"It couldn't have happened more than half an hour ago." Jarod protested. "How'd it get infected so quickly?"
"I have no idea." She replied. "But my brother told me Raccoon City has some plants that have nearly miraculous healing properties." She went on. "Sit here for a sec, I'm going to take a look around."
Her shoulder length brown hair was gathered into a simple pony tail and she wore pink jean cutoffs and a pink jean vest over a simple short sleeved, mid-thigh, black leotard. On the back of her vest was an embroidered angel, wearing an outrageously short, white dress and holding a bomb. The words stitched out above her, "Made in Heaven", nearly made Jarod laugh. Heaven had nothing to do with this hellish place.
High up on her left shoulder was a knife that was only slightly shorter than the one Jarod carried thrust through his belt, and her knee high, leather boots were arguably far more practical for this environment than Jarod's Reeboks.
"My name's Claire." She called out as she approached him, her hands filled with the red and green stems and leaves of some plant. "Claire Redfield. I'm looking for my brother Chris. You live here, or are you looking for someone too?"
"Jarod." He offered. "Jarod Johnson. I came looking for information on this disease. I didn't realize that I was walking into a total disaster."
"Me either." Claire's lips tightened grimly as she used a rock to grind up her plants on the cement steps. "I knew something was wrong, but not how bad it was. Chris wrote me after the mansion incident---"
"He's in S.T.A.R.S.?" Jarod interrupted.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I was with Jill Valentine until just a few hours ago. We got separated by zombies, but she's headed for the police station. I don't suppose you know where that is?" Jarod asked hopefully.
"Just a few more blocks." Claire grinned encouragingly. "I'm headed there myself. Want to join forces?"
"Yes." Jarod's answering smile turned into a grimace as Claire slathered the mixture of herbs on his leg and slapped a gauze bandage over it to hold the stuff on.
"That burns!" He protested.
"Good. That means I got the right plants." Claire responded briskly, binding the gauze to his leg with some surgical tape. "According to Chris this stuff is great. If he wasn't exaggerating, you'll hardly know you were hurt at all in an hour or two."
"Nothing's that good." Jarod countered skeptically.
"I don't know. Chris isn't prone to exaggeration." Claire informed Jarod, her lips quirking with humor. "How's the leg feel now?"
"Better!" Jarod was surprised again, and sat down, as if to remove the bandage and examine the wound, but Claire stopped him.
"We don't have time for that. Let's get to the station and see if we can make contact with Jill. Chris has written about her, and I know they're friends. She might know where he is."
"Okay." Jarod agreed reluctantly. "I just hope she hasn't been and gone already. I don't know how we're going to get out of this place without help."
"Chew on these." Claire handed him two more stems, one red and one green. "Chris says the juices boost the immune system when they're ingested, and fight infection and promote healing if they're rubbed on an injury. He claims they even heal bruises."
"Right. If they're so miraculous than why aren't they being harvested and sold? Why haven’t I heard of them before?" Jarod demanded but he obediently chewed them after he saw Claire stick one in her mouth too.
He was cautious, fearing that they'd burn his mouth like they had his leg, but they had a light, refreshing flavor, something like a combination of mint and parsley.
"They only grow in Raccoon City, and they loose their effectiveness hours after harvesting." Claire informed him as they began moving down the street.
Their conversation became quieter as they studied their surroundings carefully, but they continued it in the brief moments they felt it was safe to speak. Claire led with authority, going around the inevitable roadblocks with the help of the city map she had stuffed into an inside pocket of her vest.
"Why aren't they being investigated? Anything that fantastic should be scrutinized until it's understood well enough to duplicate." Jarod continued the argument softly as they picked their way down another deserted street.
"Chris thinks that Umbrella has suppressed knowledge about them. He'd been in Raccoon City six months before the mansion incident, and he had no idea what they could do until he ran across a botanist's journal in the mansion, listing their properties. Apparently there's a third plant--same stem and leaves as these two, but with blue veins. It counteracts poison."
"Which poison?" Jarod asked.
"Any poison."
"Not possible." Jarod countered flatly. "There's no such thing as a generic counter to poison. Each anti-venom has to be carefully constructed to attack the particular venom it is neutralizing."
"Chris says it works." Claire stated simply. "Just like the green plants heal injuries. The red is a catalyst that increases the effectiveness of the blue and green plants."
"And does Chris have a theory as to why the plants are kept secret by Umbrella?"
"He thinks they're afraid to have knowledge of the plants get out because then they'd be studied by the government. He guessed that Umbrella produced them during the early stages of their bioengineering experiments."
"And, while the plants are beneficial, the virus experimentation they're doing isn't. If the government investigates the one, it might find out about the other." Jarod speculated.
"That's Chris's theory." Claire agreed. "Now, see that iron gate?"
She pointed down the street to the door-like gate spanning the entrance of a 12 foot high, concrete wall. Both of them ignored the grotesque sight of 4 of the zombies ripping the flesh from a fresh corpse. They knew by now that the creatures wouldn't notice them while they were feeding unless they drew the monster's attention by moving too close.
"Is that the entrance to the police station?"
"Yes. Think you can avoid our friends long enough to get to the gate?"
"No problem. I think we should split up, though, you on one side of the street and me on the other. That might confuse them and give us more time to reach safety." Jarod suggested.
"Sounds good. Zombies do seem to have a bit of trouble making decisions, don't they?" Claire shot him a mischievous grin and suddenly shot down the street, taking the far side and hollering at Jarod to hurry up over her shoulder.
Jarod was frankly amazed that anyone could grin under these circumstances, but he obediently raced down his side of the street. They'd underestimated their path, however, and Jarod was once again separated from a companion as Claire slipped into the back gate to the police station and Jarod climbed an unstable of cars to reach the high concrete wall circling the police grounds. Claire was just vanishing into a brick building, having evaded the zombie policemen waiting just in front of the garage, but Jarod knew he had no chance of following her, as the zombies had clustered hopefully just outside the door. He made his way along the wall, which was nearly a foot wide, safely out of reach of the most energetic zombie.
The courtyard leading to the front entrance was deserted, and Jarod jumped down and burst into the lobby of the station before any of the living dead realized he was in the vicinity. He heaved a huge sigh of relief at the sight of the still, silent room. It was enormous, made of stone and tile, and the ceiling open for all three stories of the building. It had two balconies, one traversing 3/4 of the room and giving access to two doors, one on Jarod's left, and the other on Jarod's right.
Directly in front of Jarod was a statue of a woman holding a jug that went nearly to the vaulting ceiling, and to either side of the statue were ramps. He could see just a hint of the reception area just behind the concealing statue. It was a bizarre arrangement for a public building, to say the least. Jarod didn't much care, though, it was enough to take this moment of peace and try to recoup his energy and reorganize his thoughts.
He was debating with himself whether to wait and hope that either Jill or Claire would arrive, or search the station himself, when a familiar voice cried out in anger, that only thinly masked her fear.
"Get away from me you freaks!"
The cry was accompanied by three shots and the mindless moaning of more than one zombie. Jarod glanced at his magnum, hoping that the five rounds he'd scavenged off of the last body would be enough, and dove through the door directly to his right. Parker almost shot him.
"Shit!" She hissed, turning her attention back on the cluster of zombies pressing mindlessly forward. "Don't do that!"
"Shoot." Jarod replied evenly, following his own advice and blowing away the head of the nearest zombie in a shower of half-rotted flesh and bone.
Parker wasted another moment glaring at him before following suit, and in moments the last of the undead had been transformed into the completely dead. Jarod lowered his gun, it had only one bullet left, and raised one tired brow as Parker leveled her gun on him menacingly.
“Give it a rest, Parker.” He sighed wearily. “Daddy isn’t here, and you’ve got bigger problems to worry about than taking me in.”
“What the hell is going on around here?” She demanded, only the tiniest tremble in her voice revealing her all-out terror.
“Genetic research gone bad.” Jarod clarified shortly. “And if you want to get out of here alive, you’d better be prepared to work together with me. What are you doing here anyway?” He demanded as an afterthought.
“Lyle.” She spat the word out like a bad taste in her mouth. “He set me up.”
Jarod nodded briefly, unsurprised by the revelation. Lyle had been trying to get rid of his sister since before he knew of their relationship. Of course, it did raise the question of just how much he knew about the situation, and what Umbrella and the Centre had to do with each other. Questions he’d come here to investigate in the first place.
“Well, the first order of business is ammunition.” Jarod decided briskly. “And some more practical clothing.” He added with a meaningful look up and down Parker.
As usual, she was wearing a mini-skirt, although she’d broken from her usual colors. She had a white linen jacket, cut long. It came to mid-thigh, a mere two inches above the edge of the matching white skirt. Her four-inch heels were attractive, but offered no protection from the zombies who liked playing dead and latching on to a passing ankle. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn’t help her run in the least. Jarod had a strong feeling that they’d be doing a lot of running before all of this was over.
“Well, if we’re going to find ammo anywhere, this would be the place.” Parker replied, her tone of casual competency not fooling Jarod in the least. He knew she was just as scared as he was, and he was scared spitless. Any sane person would be terrified under these conditions.
“I’m sure we’ll find some decent clothes too.” He agreed, adopting her practical attitude too. “But first, exactly how did Lyle set you up? Is he here too? And where are Sydney and Broots?”
“Back at the Centre, following a lead on the Major and the boy. Lyle co-opted their services, claiming I wouldn’t need them, just a Sweeper team.” Parker’s disgust was palpable. “He made sure I got information that you were here, investigating Umbrella for wrongdoing, and I took the bait. I thought you were masquerading as a cop, so I was hanging around here when all hell broke loose. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Investigating Umbrella for wrongdoing.” Jarod grinned boyishly at her. “Angelo tipped me off about the cover-up on the mansion incident.”
“Are you sure? Somehow I don’t think Angelo would send you to a place this deadly. I’ll bet you were set up by Lyle too.” Parker returned darkly. “I guarantee you he’s banking on both of us buying it here, clearing the way for him.”
“Good point.” Jarod acknowledged thoughtfully. “But how does he know about any of this? The cover-up has been masterful. What happened to your Sweepers?”
“Dead, as far as I can tell. John was overwhelmed in the first wave of zombies, Carl volunteered to help the police, and I haven’t seen him since, and Kent got shot by an officer after one of the zombies bit him. The man claimed that he’d turn into one of them too, and it was safer to kill him now, before the infection set in. That’s when I struck off on my own. I don’t fancy being shot by my own side.”
“I don’t blame you.” Jarod commiserated, masterfully restraining his urge to say something about zombies knowing better than to bite her because she’d probably taste bad. “I guess we’ll have to actually cooperate then.”
Parker glared, but didn’t argue with him.
“First order of business, a map of the building. Let’s check out the reception area in there.” Jarod gestured towards the door he’d burst through upon hearing Parker’s cry. “Then we’ll see what we can do to get out of this place.”
“Okay. I know a little bit about the layout, since I’ve been hanging around here for a few days, but most of it’s still a mystery to me. After the reception area, though, I think we should check out the Chief’s offices. There’s something weird about him, and I’m guessing we’ll find out something interesting there.”
“Yes, there is something very strange about this place.” Jarod mused as they made their way towards the reception area. “For instance, I’m pretty sure this statue moves---see the grooves there? And it looks like something goes in here.” He pointed to the circular depression over the strange inscription.
“And what kind of an office has the receptionist counter behind a giant statue?” Parker added grimly. “This place has “wacko” printed all over it.”
“So, what’d you do when “all hell broke loose”?” Jarod questioned, moving up the short ramp to the receptionist area. He ignored the antique typewriter and began rifling competently through the papers stacked on the desk next to it.
“Here’s a map.” Parker volunteered, waving a brightly colored brochure she’d picked up next to the computer. It was in a rack of brochures for various city attractions.
“And here’s a memo to Chief Irons.” Jarod muttered, reading the paper intently. “Apparently there’s some sort of underground research station accessible through the detention center in the basement.”
“Researching what?” Parker asked, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“It doesn’t say here, but according to Jill Valentine, one of my informants, the T-virus for sure and possibly something they call the G-virus.”
“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Parker murmured.
“Possibly because a virus of some sort is responsible for the zombies.”
“Let’s get out of here---now.” Parker urged seriously. “Things are only going to get worse, I think.”
“Well, according to your map, the S.T.A.R.S. office is upstairs. Jill told me they’d been pretty much banned from the station after the mansion incident, so I’m guessing that our best chance to scavenge supplies is there. Now, we can try going through here---“ his finger pointed to the squad room that opened off of the lobby.
“No.” Parker contradicted him. “That’s where our trigger happy cop went. I’d rather not try to follow him.”
“Okay, then we have to go through this room---it looks like a waiting room of some sort, through these two hallways, and into the back that way.” Jarod traced the route, frowning unhappily. “I don’t like it. These halls border the outside, and if zombies have been getting in, I’ll be that’s where they’ve been doing it. We’re pretty low on ammo if we encounter trouble.”
“You’ve got a point.” She admitted reluctantly. “And it’s been a few hours since he went through those doors, so maybe he’s moved on to a better hiding place.”
“Besides,” Jarod added hopefully, “The squad room might very well have both ammunition and clothing we could use.” He glanced down at his own torn and stained clothing as he spoke.
“Fine. We’ll try it your way.”
Decision made, Parker turned on one heel and strode around the counter. The door they wanted was on the wall facing the computer, but they had to backtrack all the way around to get to it. The building had definitely not been designed with any kind of efficiency in mind.
Jarod followed, his long legs easily keeping up with Parker’s strides and allowing him to pass her up just before they reached the door.
“How many shots do you have left?” He softly asked.
She checked her gun.
“Fifteen and a spare clip.” She answered just as quietly.
“Okay, I’m going in first, you cover my back. I’ve only got one bullet left, so be ready to back me up if there’s trouble.”
“Got ya’.” She nodded.
The door was unlocked, and Jarod eased it open cautiously. But on seeing three undead officers clinging voraciously to the still resisting man inside, he flung open the door and blew open the head of the nearest zombie. Parker jumped in after him, and began firing while Jarod, his gun empty, picked up the nearest chair and broke it over the next zombie’s head.
It turned away from the injured man and advanced on Jarod, who grabbed another wooden chair and brandished it threateningly. The zombie didn’t have the intelligence left to realize the threat, and continued to move in on Jarod. This time when Jarod swung the chair, hitting the head a second time with all the force he could muster, the zombies head exploded like an overripe melon. The man they’d rushed in to help collapsed, groaning softly, moments after Parker’s careful shots took out the third zombie.
“Th-thanks.” He whispered hoarsely. “But I’m afraid it’s too late for me. I’m infected too. You should shoot me while you have the chance.”
“What about a treatment? Isn’t there an antidote?” Parker asked, hoping with all her heart the answer was “yes”.
She wasn’t overly worried about this man, but she was worried about Jarod and herself. They were wandering around in a biological “hot spot” with no way to protect themselves from infection. She wanted there to be an antidote, or a vaccine. She wanted some peace of mind.
“Maybe somewhere, but not here. We’re expendable.” The man answered painfully. “It’s all Umbrella’s fault. We should have listened to Chris and the others---now it’s too late.”
“I’m Jarod and this is Miss Parker. We came here to investigate matters and got caught up in the disaster.” Jarod told the man. “Who are you?”
“Marvin Branagh.” He managed to say. “If you get out of this, could you look up my folks and tell them what happened? They live in Chicago.”
“Of course.” Jarod assured him, watching with concern as Marvin scratched his arm, and then his chest, and then his leg. “Do you know where we might find some ammunition?”
He asked hopefully, glancing at the lockers behind the man.
“They’ve been cleaned out already.” Marvin correctly interpreted Jarod’s look. “But munitions have been stored all over the building. Go out the other door to this room—it leads to the evidence room, and then into the back hall. There’s a storeroom back there that should still be untouched.”
“Why should it be any different than here?” Parker wanted to know.
“Because I have the only key.” Marvin smiled wryly, holding out the metal object to Jarod. “There’s no guarantee that the door hasn’t been forced, but it’s your best bet. Now get out of here.” He visibly restrained himself from scratching another itch.
“We’ll be back if we find something helpful.” Parker promised.
Jarod and Marvin exchanged solemn looks. They both knew that it was too late for Marvin, but neither was willing to disillusion Parker.
“Thanks.” Jarod told the man softly.
“Be careful. The zombies are everywhere now.” Marvin cautioned them, leaning his head back and closing his eyes wearily. “Take my shotgun, it’s fully loaded.”
“We’ll get out.” Jarod promised. “And I’ll find your folks.”
Marvin’s eyes opened briefly and he smiled gratefully. Then he made a half-hearted shooing motion with his hand and Parker and Jarod headed down the length of desks in the center of the room. In the back was an office, and on the opposite wall was the promised door. Jarod motioned Parker back, verified the presence of shells in the shotgun, and cautiously eased the door open. Moans greeted them.
“Please, help us!” One man pleaded, his eyes dark and sunken on his haggard face.
“Where are the doctors?” Another whined.
“We’re working on it.” Jarod promised them, stepping carefully over their supine bodies.
“If you don’t hurry,” the first man pressed insistently, “it’ll be too late.”
‘It already is.’ Jarod thought sadly, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
Parker followed him so closely she was in danger of tripping him, but it turned out to be her advantage when one of the ill men clutched her leg as she passed, mumbling something about “hot” and “hungry”. Jarod kicked the man away with a foot to the chest and shoved Parker towards the door. For once Parker felt no need to prove her ability to take care of herself, and she practically leaped through it.
“Stay back!” Jarod warned the others, leveling the shotgun menacingly. “I don’t want to use this, but I will.”
The other men weren’t so far gone that they were willing to risk a shotgun shell to the face, and Jarod stumbled out the door after Parker. She slammed the door shut behind him, turning the key that sat in the outside lock with a decisive click. Jarod sagged weakly against the stone wall of the hallway, almost sick with relief that there were no obvious threats waiting for them. Parker pocketed the key.
“Who knows if we’ll need it later?” She asked rhetorically, as he gave her a quizzical look.
“In this crazy building, you’re right.” Jarod agreed, pushing off of the wall and making his way down the hall. “And the sooner we’re out of it, the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Parker said fervently, following him closely.
Jarod’s first impression of safety bore out as he and Parker made their way down the hall and then to the storeroom located down a small hall running next to the length of the stairs. Marvin’s prediction that the room would be untouched was also born out when Jarod turned the key in the door---opening it for the first time since the original occupant left.
Inside it proved to be multifunctional. Evident lockers lined one wall, a double clothing locker graced another corner, and a desk and typewriter sat squarely in the middle of the 10’ by 12’ room. Along the back wall was another door, leading to a darkroom. It was a gloomy room, obviously a converted store room with no windows and no softening touches like pictures or plants. Either no one used it on a regular basis, or whoever was assigned the office was in such deep trouble with the powers that be that they didn’t dare liven up the decor at all.
“Check those lockers.” Jarod pointed towards the man-tall metal lockers in the corner. “I’ll make sure these don’t have anything useful.” He moved towards the wall of 2’ by 2’ evidence lockers.
“What am I looking for?” Parker asked as she efficiently jimmied the inefficient locks build into the handles.
“Something more practical to wear than that suit, for starters.” Jarod told her dryly, using the hammer he found in the bottom drawer of the desk to lever open the more substantial doors to the evidence lockers.
“You could use a change yourself.” Parker informed him, holding out the outfits she found in the first locker and looking them over consideringly.
“I agree.” Jarod’s voice was distracted as he began sorting through the cache of ammunition he found in one of the bottom containers. “And we both need better foot gear---combat boots preferably.”
“Well, there are these….” Parker’s voice made her distaste so clear that Jarod looked up to see her holding up a pair of neon pink cowboy boots; obviously constructed for the female foot. He valiantly suppressed a grin.
“Do they fit you?” He asked with only the barest hint of a chuckle.
“Does it matter?” She scowled darkly.
“They will provide more protection from----“ his voice trailed off uncertainly. He didn’t know if Parker knew about the zombies who lay on the ground waiting to grab and chew on a passing person. He also didn’t know if he wanted to be the one to enlighten her if she didn’t.
“From what happened to your leg?” She guessed shrewdly.
“Yeah.” Jarod said softly, looking down at the bandage with shadowed eyes.
He’d almost forgotten about the wound. After Claire had bandaged it with her herbal poultice it had completely ceased to bother him. And in the excitement of simple survival in this place, a minor injury wasn’t enough to distract him.
“I think these might fit you.” Parker announced, holding out someone’s worn, but clean, denim jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and a leather bomber’s jacket. “But I am not wearing these.”
“These” turned out to be the outfit that went with the boots. Also pink, with blond fringe, it was a caricatured “wild west” get up. The jacket and skirt were denim, and the skirt came down to mid calf, offering Parker more protection from the nightmares outside the room, but Jarod took one look at her set face and swallowed his suggestion that she don the outfit anyway. He had a strong feeling she’d use her gun on him if he did.
“Maybe there’s a spare set of jeans in the other locker.” He suggested instead. “They’d probably be too big for you, but if you belt them tightly it would be better than nothing.”
“There are.” Parker admitted, reaching into the second locker. “And I agree, it’s better than nothing, but we’ll continue to search for something closer to my size, got it? There’s no reason why I should run around looking like a little girl playing dress up.”
“Right.” Jarod agreed diplomatically. He kept to himself the thought that the odds weren’t good that they’d find anything else to wear.
“Why don’t you change back there,” he pointed to the door of the darkroom, “while I change out here?”
Parker nodded and stalked back towards the door, discontent radiating from the stiff line of her back. Jarod stifled another grin, and chastised himself silently for taking pleasure in her discomfort. Still, she’d been making his life uncomfortable for years, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that the shoe was on the other foot, for once.
He shimmied out of his clothing down to his underwear and pulled the clean T-shirt over his head, appreciatively inhaling the scent of detergent on it that made a nice change from the dirt, sweat, and more disgusting odors and stains that had covered his own shirt. Before he pulled on the jeans, however, he carefully unwrapped the bandage Claire had improvised for his leg, his curiosity insisting that he had to check the injury’s progress.
He was stunned by the change. The angry red inflammation around the bite was gone and it appeared to him that the breaks in his skin were actually starting to close. Even for a bite from a normal human’s mouth, that level of healing would have been miraculous. Given the previous, infected, condition of the wound, Jarod could only shake his head wonderingly. It appeared that the plants were as amazing as Claire had boasted.
Jarod tore a white dress shirt he dredged out of the locker into strips, and rebandaged his leg with it before pulling on the fresh jeans. They were a little tight, but not enough to seriously impede his movement. He resolved to make a fresh poultice of herbs as soon as he ran across some more. In fact, he was resolved to take samples of the plants with him if it was at all possible.
“The belt doesn’t cinch tight enough.” Parker’s unhappy voice cut across Jarod’s musings. She walked out of the darkroom, holding a man’s leather belt in one hand and her overlarge jeans up with the other. The waist of the jeans were at least three inches wider than her own, well shaped, waist. However, they fit snugly over her hips.
“Give me the belt.” Jarod told her calmly.
Parker complied, and he carefully measured the spot where the new hole had to be made to enable Parker to cinch it tight enough to keep the borrowed pants up. Then he used a Phillips screwdriver, pilfered from the same drawer and the hammer to punch a new hole in the leather. He retied his sneakers while Parker secured her pants.
Unfortunately, the combat boots that went with the clothing he’d appropriated were, like the jeans, a little too small for him. Jeans he could get away with wearing a little too tight, and the denim would probably relax a little as he wore them, but the boots wouldn’t. Given that they were stuck on foot for this little adventure, Jarod knew the discomfort of ill-fitting footwear would seriously hamper their escape. He glanced at Parker’s feet, noting the pink boots peeking out from under the jeans, and looked up again.
“I know you hate them,” he told her, his voice and expression both carefully neutral, “but if you don’t tuck your pants legs into those boots, you’ll regret it later.”
“What are you talking about?” Parker glared at Jarod, daring him to give her a stupid reason.
Have you worn cowboy boots before? Ever?” He asked.
“No.”
“Well, they chafe your calves.” Jarod explained dryly. “Unless you’ve already worn them enough to toughen up the skin where they rub while you’re walking.”
“Jarod, if I find out later that you’re putting me on…” She threatened grimly, as she tucked the ends of her jeans into the boots.
“I wouldn’t do that now.” Jarod assured her seriously. “This is life and death---I won’t play mind games when the stakes are so high.”
“So,” an anticipatory gleam lit Parker’s eyes, “mind if I ask a few questions?”
“The promise extends to the here and now.” Jarod warned her. “Past and future events are off limits.”
“I knew it was too good to be true.” She grumbled half-heartedly.
“I found a little more ammunition.” Jarod wisely changed the subject as he shrugged into the bomber jacket she’d found for him. “And a key to the S.T.A.R.S. office.”
“That’ll come in handy.” She murmured, already reloading her Beretta, and combining bullets to make as many full clips as possible. The spare clips went into the spacious pockets of her new jeans.
Jarod reloaded the shotgun, which held seven rounds. He had no room in his pockets for shells, but he’d located a side pack in the trunk in the corner, and he packed one compartment full of the extra shells. The magnum he tucked into the waistband of his pants in the small of his back. They’d found no ammunition for it, but Jarod had been impressed with its destructive ability, and hoped that they’d find bullets for it somewhere in the building.
Parker strapped an emergency first aid kit around her waist, and picked up a nearly new backpack from the evidence lockers. Jarod nodded his approval, and selected his own, more worn backpack from the lockers. If they got lucky and found a real store of supplies, they were going to need all the space they could scrounge up to carry the necessities.
“Ready?” He asked as soon as everything had been settled.
“No.” She sighed, her expression mirroring her dread of the monstrosities waiting outside. “But we’d better go anyway.”
Jarod gave her a tight grin, full of understanding, and opened the door cautiously. Fortunately, no zombies had invaded the hallway during their brief scavenging break.
“Up the stairs now.” Jarod reminded Parker as they eased down the hallway, each covering a different side with their weapons at the ready.
They made it up the stairs safely, and down the second hallway without encountering anyone. Parker glanced disparagingly at the tasteless statues that decorated the slightly larger space at the end of hallway while Jarod tried the door just before it, discovering that someone had locked it. The other door, at the southwest end of the cul de sac, opened easily, revealing another group of zombie police chewing gruesomely on a dead, civilian woman.
Parker covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle her nausea, but kept the Beretta aimed steadily at the occupied zombies with the other. Jarod, growing almost numb to these scenes of horror, simply fired the shotgun at the group. The spray of shot blew the men away from the corpse, but it also alerted them to the presence of fresh meat. They slowly rose to their feet, and began shambling in the direction of the door. Jarod pumped four more shots into their midst before they finally stayed down, twitching endlessly as the virus that had killed them continued to send random impulses down their nerve endings.
Jarod fumbled the key into the lock, the hours on high-alert finally starting to wear on him. Parker was the one who noticed the woman move, her filmy eyes staring blindly in Jarod’s direction as she began to pull herself along the floor. Bile rose in her throat as she shot the victim she and Jarod had both assumed was dead.
“Thanks.” Jarod told her, eyeing the twitching corpse uneasily.
“Just get us inside.” Parker dismissed his words briskly, trying to hide just how unnerved she really was.
They stumbled into the thankfully empty room and slid to the floor numbly.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Jarod murmured with brutal honesty.
“Just pretend they’re Raines.” Parker replied dryly, wiping the perspiration from her forehead.
Jarod gave short bark of mirthless laughter and pulled himself back up.
“Good idea. Compared to Raines these creatures are a walk in the park.”
Oddly enough, Parker’s suggestion settled him like nothing else could have. Even though his miserable childhood couldn’t compare to the horrors they were currently dealing with, just the reminder that he had survived the Centre restored Jarod’s confidence. He hadn’t even realized how truly unnerved he was until that moment.
“Let’s see what we can find here.” He suggested, looking the room over appraisingly.
The south wall of the room was nearly covered by a complicated looking communication center, and where the controls ended a set of utility shelves, filled with cardboard storage boxes, took up the remaining space. Then came three pairs of desks, facing each other, and butting up against the east wall. The north wall had a trophy case on the west end and another metal utility shelf on the east. In between them was a wall hanging with the S.T.A.R.S. emblem and a picture of the members themselves. Just in front of the wall-hanging was a stand-alone desk made of metal, unlike the wooden desks for the other members of the team. Finally, on a small table by the door, was a fax machine.
“You want to check out the radio? Maybe we can call for help.” Parker suggested, moving towards the northernmost desk.
“I doubt it.” Jarod replied, approaching the console anyway. “I tried to drive out yesterday, and nearly got shot for my pains. I don’t think anyone is coming inside this city until the crisis has ended.”
A snort came from Parker as she rifled through the papers scattered across the desk.
“You mean until everyone here is dead and half-rotten, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if something more proactive ended up happening.” Jarod replied bleakly, moving from the useless console to the desk closest to him. “Jill said that Umbrella blew up the mansion where the first accident happened to destroy the evidence.”
“I’d say a city of more than one hundred thousand souls would be a little harder to blow up.” Parker argued, checking each drawer in the desk for ammunition. Two boxes of magnum bullets went into the other pocket to turn over to Jarod before they left the room.
“I wonder…” Jarod grumbled darkly.
He and Jill found the boots at almost the same moment. He was searching through Jill’s desk, and found her spare combat boots, in exactly the right size for Parker, and she was searching through the desk of Chris Redfield when she found his spare boots. They held up the prizes triumphantly in unison, grinning when they realized their synchronicity. It was one of the nicest moments they’d shared with each other since they were children.
“I think these will fit you.” Jarod explained unnecessarily as Parker’s smile faded slightly.
“I think these will fit you too.” She told him, her voice still friendly, even though her expression was more thoughtful than inviting. She and Jarod were both silent as they laced on their finds.
“Jarod, I---“
“Parker, don’t you---“
The both sat up straight and spoke at the same moment again. Parker subsided, flushing slightly, while Jarod narrowed his eyes in thought again, and started over.
“Parker, something about this entire situation keeps nagging at me, like it’s familiar, but I can’t think why.” He told her unhappily. “Do you remember anything like this? Ever?”
“No.” Parker replied promptly, and with a shudder of distaste. “And I certainly think I would remember something if I’d ever been exposed to anything like this. But if you think you remember something, you probably do. I’m sure it will all come back to you eventually.”
“What did you want to tell me?” Jarod shelved the problem, and focused on her abortive word.
“I just wanted to tell you…” She paused, and with the experience that years of interaction with Parker had given him, Jarod knew she was having second thoughts.
“Spit it out, Parker.” He urged her firmly, but not harshly. “For once you’re in a position where you can say anything you like and Daddy will never know.”
“I think this situation is familiar too.” She told him, “But it’s because it parallels my worst nightmares for what might happen at the Centre, not because I’ve got any prior knowledge. I can see the Centre creating a horror like this.”
Jarod’s eyes closed as a flash of memory surfaced from his mind.
“You can’t control this, Dr. Raines.” He was telling the gaunt man, his adolescent face pale and his short bangs slicked against his face with sweat. “It’s a mutenogenic of pandemic ability. As soon as I come up with an antidote, it mutates again---and it’s already crosses species boundaries once that I know of!”
“Excellent.” Raines rasped, his eyes gleaming with avarice and more than a touch of megalomania. “A bioweapon is born.”
“Dr. Raines, if this is ever released, there’s no telling what would happen. It would make Ebola look like a summer cold!” Jarod tried again, desperately. Somehow, he had to make the man understand!
“Don’t worry about what it can do, just refine the stuff for me. Then I’ll send Saunders in with your shot.”
Jarod was already trembling, feeling his body demanding the drug they’d been feeding him, but he resisted.
“I’d rather not, Sir. I know that it’s hampered my work, not helped. Half the time I’m so groggy from its effects I can’t even think straight. The other half---well, I’ve had hallucinations.” He admitted reluctantly, knowing he didn’t want Raines to see any weakness in him, but knowing even more firmly that he didn’t want another shot of that damned drug.
“You’ll receive the drug as long as I say so.” Raines had rebutted with a cruel smile. “Sydney left you in my care, and I’ll call the shots until he returns. Now get back to work.”
With that he’d turned and dragged himself out of the room, oxygen canister following behind him like a faithful dog. Young Jarod had shuddered, not just from the effects of the narcotic they were feeding him, and turned back to the lab table, his heart sinking as he realized again that he should never have trusted Sydney.
“Jarod?”
He could tell by the tone of her voice that Parker had been trying to get his attention for several minutes.
“Don’t you think we should get going now?” She repeated, her patience obviously fraying down to almost nothing.
“Yes.” Jarod agreed quickly. “Let’s get out of here.”
She gave him a look that said more clearly than words that she’d worm his flashback out of him sooner or later, but survival was clearly the priority at the moment.
“Where should we go?” She asked, instead of probing.
“I wish I thought we could make it to the hospital.” He murmured, almost to himself. “I’m sure they’ve got research going there on this thing.”
“Go outside? Have you, by any chance, noticed the armies of the undead marching around out there?” She countered, her voice edging into shrillness.
“Actually, yes, I have.” He retorted with a certain grim humor. “And I’m not eager to try my luck out there again either. But maybe we won’t have to. Take a look at that map of yours, and see if you can find the Captain’s office. Didn’t you say there was something off about him?”
“He fairly reeked “bad cop”.” Parker agreed unhappily. “And something about him didn’t seem quite sane.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Parker was clearly irritated at her lack of hard evidence. “He just seemed to be too creepy, even for this place. And, well, I’m accustomed to men looking at me, but when he did it felt like he didn’t see me, just an object, like a painting or a statue.”
Jarod almost grinned. Anyone who could look at Parker and see a statue was obviously no longer sane.
“Okay, here’s our route.” He said, instead of sharing his observation. He didn’t know how long their unspoken truce would last, and he wasn’t about to damage it by reminding Parker of just how attractive he found her.
“If we go through this door,” his finger pointed at a door on the other end of the hallway they’d entered through. The hallway simply followed the length of the S.T.A.R.S. office, and then turned to cover the length of the far wall too. At the end of that turn was the door he meant.
“If we go through here, we come out in this little waiting area. From there we can reach the library, which opens up onto the balcony we saw above the lobby. That will take us around the lobby to here---“ His finger stabbed at the only other door that opened up on the balcony, opening up to offices directly above where he’d met up with Parker.
“According to your map, that’s the Chief’s secretary’s office, and the Chief’s offices are down this hall behind her.”
“Maybe we should simply backtrack through the downstairs area we’ve already traveled.” Parker suggested nervously. “We have no idea what might be lying in wait for us along this route.”
“But we do know that there is at least one room full of infected officers, probably all ready to take a bite from us by now.” Jarod pointed out patiently. “And we don’t know where there might be stairs over there to get us up to the second floor. The map keeps that area vague, probably because it deals with places where they interrogate suspects.”
“Okay.” Parker agreed grudgingly. “I know you’re right, but before we go, I have to tell you about something.”
Jarod turned to face her, keeping his expression encouraging.
“There’s at least one monster roaming this place that I know of.” She confessed reluctantly. “I’ve heard---something roaring in the distance, and I heard some of the officers talking about something they called a Licker. It’s a manlike creature, with a long tongue that actually took someone’s head off.”
Jarod swallowed queasily, not even wanting to think of something that was so formidable it used its tongue as a weapon.
“I’m sure there are more that we don’t know of yet.”
“Well, now we know to be on the lookout for them.” He encouraged her, hoping she couldn’t see his own trepidation. “It’s just one more thing to be aware of.”
“Right.” Parker obviously made the effort to return herself to the disciplined, detached state of mind that made it possible for her to accomplish the tasks the Centre frequently sent her on. “Let’s go, then.”
They were extremely fortunate. The zombies waiting on the other side of the hall door were far enough away that Parker and Jarod could dodge them easily. The library was a haven of silence, and the balcony had the corpses of at least 4 zombie officers, indicating that someone else had passed through there. Jarod hoped that those bodies meant that Claire was somewhere in the building, and okay.
The secretary’s office was also empty of threats, but Jarod and Parker found a cache of ammunition. When they finished loading the bullets and shells into their backpacks the packs were uncomfortably heavy, but neither complained of the weight. Better sore shoulders and back muscles than eaten! The find lifted their spirits so much that they entered the hallway through the back door of the office with an almost optimistic frame of mind. It didn’t last long.
“Dear God!” Parker breathed, looking at the ugly creature drooling down at them from the ceiling.
It did look like a man---like a man who’d been skinned alive. The hands and feet were tipped with impossibly long claws, and the hips were set wrong for a human. Certainly the way it flattened itself along the ceiling would have been impossible for a normal human to have achieve. Where the eyes should have been were two, fish-belly-white swollen bumps, about the size of a man’s palm. There were dark slits in the bumps than might have opened into eyes, but it was hard to tell.
As Jarod and Parker stared at it in disbelief, it dropped from the ceiling to the floor, twisting to land right-side-up like a cat in mid-fall. They backed up slowly while it advanced on them, claws clicking ominously and a low, sibilant hiss emanating from it. When the tongue flashed out suddenly, extending to nearly a meter in length, and barely missing them, Jarod was finally able to act.
He hurriedly swung the shotgun up to his shoulder and squeezed off a shot almost before he’d gotten it up. He didn’t take the time to aim, instinct warning him that he didn’t want that creature to cover the few inches that were between them and the maximum reach of its tongue.
It took three shots to kill the beast, and Jarod pumped another shot into its head just to be sure, before they edged cautiously past it to turn the corner of the hall. Fortunately, it seemed to be the only one, and its presence had pretty much eliminated the other mutated dangers that might have been lurking otherwise.
“I assume that this is your Licker.” He told Parker dryly, hoping she didn’t notice the residual tremor in his voice.
“I think so.” Parker managed to reply, even though she was more than a little nauseated by the almost human remains of the monster.
Now that the threat of the Licker was gone, Parker and Jarod had time to notice an acrid scent in the air, the unmistakable residue of a fire. When they rounded the corner they saw that the fire had been the corridor itself. A helicopter had obviously crashed into the roof, half of it coming through it to block most of the remaining hallway. The door to the Chief’s office should have been right next to the ruined chopper, but there was a gaping hole instead.
Once again, it was clear that someone had been through this area. The hole in the wall wasn’t a result of the crash, it was obviously due to an explosion. Jarod suspected that the explosive itself was some form of plastique, which was far more easily controlled than most alternatives.
Whether it was the unknown person, the recently deceased Licker, or the burning helicopter that prevented anything from penetrating the Chief’s suite, they encountered no dangers as they made their way to the office through the maze of halls. When they reached the office, it too was empty, and the wall behind the desk had a gaping opening. This opening was obviously an intentional entrance, although it was just as obviously a concealed entrance when closed.
“Look.” Parker pointed grimly at the trail of blood that ran from the top of the desk through the opening.
“I think we have to follow it.” Jarod told her, knowing she’d rather not.
“I think you’re right.” She agreed, but without any enthusiasm.
Jarod motioned her to watch his back, and peeked cautiously down the hall revealed by the entrance. It was empty, with only an old-fashioned, metal elevator box at the end, and it had just started its downward journey. Jarod stepped into the hall, waving Parker to follow him, and hurried to look down the shaft. With any luck he’d be able to see the occupants of the elevator...
The panel that hid the entrance slid firmly back into place the moment Jarod and Parker entered the hidden hall, startling them both. Jarod couldn’t find the triggering mechanism to open it back up, and they both turned towards the newly returned elevator with an air of resignation. Since they couldn’t return the way they had come, they’d have to follow this new path. Neither one of them was really happy about the lack of choice, but, realistically, they knew that it couldn’t be any more dangerous than what they’d already overcome.
“Keep well behind me.” Jarod whispered to Parker. “I want back-up, and I want to know nothing is going to creep up behind me while I’m busy.”
“Okay.” Parker whispered back, knowing their caution was probably useless, but unable to resist the urge for quiet.
They entered the elevator together, and kept their weapons at the ready for the short ride down. The dank stone wall of the hallway that greeted them at the bottom did nothing to lift their spirits. The resemblance to a medieval dungeon was enhanced by the flickering, burning torches that lit the passageway at 6 foot intervals.
“I told you he was strange!” Parker hissed unhappily as Jarod started out ahead.
He shrugged a silent response. There wasn’t anything they could do about it now, all they could do was go on and hope for the best.
He’d only gotten a few feet ahead of her when the unmistakable sound of door opening and closing made him freeze in his tracks. The sound of approaching footsteps made him search frantically for a hiding spot in the empty corridor. They made do with a deep well of shadow, right next to a turn in the tunnel. If the returning person didn’t look behind him they’d be safe enough.
Fortune was with them. The man, thick, burly specimen, with dark, graying hair and the remains of a snappy suit covering him, made his way confidently back to the elevator, not looking to the right or the left as he went. His assurance would probably end up getting him killed, but neither of the two watching him really cared.
“That the Chief?” He asked Parker when the elevator had carried him out of sight.
“Yes.” Parker couldn’t hide her shudder. Not even Raines could make her feel as inconsequential as that man had. “Let’s find another way out before he comes back.”
“I hope there is another way out.” Jarod replied soberly.
At first it didn’t seem that his hopes would be answered. The passage ended in a room that Parker recognized as one dedicated to taxidermy. For once she was glad that Cox had oozed his way into the Centre, as she looked around at the preservative chemicals, and surgical instruments. If she hadn’t already encountered this scene in his underground room, she’d have been seriously unnerved. As it was, the presence of a very beautiful, very dead, blond woman on the table in the center of the room didn’t help her unease at all.
“A trapdoor.” Jarod had ignored the contents of the room in favor of finding a bolt hole. A hole was literally what he found.
“Please don’t tell me he was planning to stuff her for posterity.” Parker ignored Jarod and the other contents of the room to study the woman with morbid curiosity.
She hadn’t been killed by either the Licker or a zombie. Except for the clearly fatal hole in her side, she was completely unmarked. A zombie would have done far more damage, as would the Licker, which seemed to enjoy beheading its victims. Besides, if that hole wasn’t a gunshot wound, then Parker was more than willing to eat her own shoes.
She finally tore her attention away from the girl, just in time to observe Jarod levering up a two-foot-square, metal panel. It rose grudgingly, the hinges had obviously rusted, but it finally revealed another hole and a ladder which lead even further down. It was too dark to see where the ladder ended, but Parker had already decided she’d rather go down and risk the unknown than try and pass the madman who blocked the other way out.
“You go down first.” Jarod suggested, apparently thinking along the same lines as she was. “I’ll lower the trapdoor behind me as I climb down. With any luck, he’ll never know we were here.”
“Fine.” Parker agreed, willing to risk any number of mutant monsters, if it meant she didn’t have to meet the Chief of Police. She’d already concluded that he’d killed the girl, and that he was even crazier, and scarier, than even her brother.
Moments later they had both descended the ladder and found themselves on bare metal catwalk, suspended in what was obviously a system of natural caverns and tunnels. The walls were narrow and close here, but they were natural, not carved out by the hand of man. A peek through the metal grill that comprised their bridge showed that this fissure extended down a distance that would be fatal, at the very least, if they were to fall.
The walkway extended ahead of them about ten feet and then veered left for another six. There were no side paths, opening, or ladders in sight. With no other options open to them, Jarod and Parker followed the walkway to its end and halted, looking at each other in confusion.
“Why would anyone build a walkway that doesn’t go anywhere?” She questioned thoughtfully.
“It goes somewhere.” Jarod replied. “We just have to figure out where and how.”
The button wasn’t hard to find, once they looked for it. Parker pressed it decisively, and a metal ladder clattered down from above. She would never have admitted it, but she was glad they were going up again, and not down further. Something about these musty and damp walls disturbed her, and she didn’t want to know why.
“Up?” Parker asked rhetorically, knowing there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
“After me, this time.” Jarod agreed. “Who knows what’s waiting up there?”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Parker objected, unwilling to let Jarod behave as though she were some kind of fragile flower. “I wasn’t head of Centre security for nothing, you know.”
“Parker, the monsters you’ve dealt with have all been human. Who knows what’s up there? I’ve already honed my reflexes making it on foot to the police station. I’m betting they’re a little better than yours right now. Besides, a shotgun beats a Berretta any time.”
“No argument there.” Parker surrendered gracefully. “I’ll wait—you scout, Tonto.”
Predictably, Jarod had no idea who Tonto was, but he swallowed his curiosity and climbed.
The ladder led to the waste water tunnels that crisscrossed the entire city. They were often called sewers by the uniformed, but they didn’t actually carry any raw sewage, much to Parker’s relief. She’d followed right behind Jarod, in spite of his suggestion to wait, and even with the odor of rotten garbage and mildewy walls, she was glad to be out of the cavern area.
“We have to wade through the drainage ditch.” Jarod indicated the concrete channel running alongside the concrete ledge they stood on.
“Are you sure?” Parker eyed the murky water dubiously.
“We’ve got two choices,” Jarod pointed to the vertical metal bars that blocked the water canal about twelve feet in front of them.
“We can go through the door in those bars,” Parker could barely see the outline of a barred door, “or go through the gate on the side that opens to the overflow trench on the other side.”
“Will it be dry?” She questioned, seriously unhappy at the thought of wading through the questionable stream in front of them.
“Nope. Chances are good that there’s water being diverted through there at some point, and regardless, as soon as we trigger the gate, water from this ditch will flow through with us.”
“Let’s go straight, then.” Parker sighed, grateful that she at least wasn’t wearing anything expensive.
“Good.” Jarod smiled, his features still capable of taking on that “little-boy-in-a-toy-store” expression at the drop of a hat. “I think the hospital’s that way, and I want to take a look through it before we leave this town.”
“Why?” Parker demanded, as much to take her mind off of the unpleasant sensation and smell of wading through debris clogged drain water as for curiosity.
“Even if Umbrella wasn’t conducting secret research into this virus, which I think they were, the doctor’s here must have been doing something to investigate it. I want all the data I can find to take with us.”
The door, made of the same metal bars as the grate, but set on hinges to open, resisted being opened until Jarod shook the bars vigorously. Oxidized metal showered down from the rusting bars and the hinges finally moved with an agonized squeal. Parker winced, at the noise and at the thought of what the noise might attract. She winced again when Jarod closed the entrance behind them, producing the same tortured shriek of metal.
“Why’d you bother closing it?” She demanded sourly.
“You never know what it might keep out.” He answered enigmatically. “Besides, even if no one’s following us, I’d rather not leave a trail that’s too easy to follow.”
Parker withheld a response, being too busy scrambling up onto the concrete ledge running along this section of sewer. She trudged silently along behind Jarod, cursing Lyle, Umbrella, and the universe in general for the entire mess her life had suddenly become. Her leather boots felt slimy with excess moisture, her jeans slapped wetly against her legs, and the dampness made the cool air seem positively cold.
Jarod, of course, seemed unaffected by the miserable conditions, focusing entirely on the mystery of this disease. She had forgotten Jarod mentioning the familiarity of this entire situation, but Jarod was becoming obsessed with retrieving those particular memories and sorting them out. He still couldn’t remember anything clearly, but he was sure he knew more about this virus than he remembered. Parker was relegated to the back of his mind while he sifted endlessly through the one brief flashback he’d recalled.
“It’s too dangerous.” The boy insisted stubbornly, glaring at the older man from his position huddled in on himself against the wall. He ignored the tremors shaking his frame and the cramps that already shot through his abdomen.
“I won’t do anymore work on it.” He repeated grimly, tightening his grip around his middle.
“You’ll do what I tell you, boy.” Raines rasped harshly. “No! I won’t.” Jarod contradicted with remarkable boldness. It was the first time he’d ever defied anyone since coming to the Centre. “Nothing is worth the risk this virus represents. It’s uncontrollable; nothing more than a killing device. Worse of all, it robs its victims of any sense of normalcy. All they care about is killing---killing anything and everything.”
“All the more reason to develop an antidote.”
“Don’t you understand? It’s a virus! It mutates! It’s nearly impossible to develop an antidote for any virus, and this one mutates faster than even the common cold. You want the impossible.”
Jarod bowed his head over his knees, feeling equally ill from the withdrawal symptoms and fear, but knowing that he’d let nothing sway his decision. The study of this organism had to be stopped, and the sample destroyed. He knew it was the only way to protect humanity in general.
“You’ll pay for this defiance, Jarod. Do you hear me?” Raines vowed coldly. Jarod refused to look up, letting his continued silence answer the man.
“Very well. Escort him back to the infirmary. It’s time he purged the narcotic from his system. It was a failure anyway.”
“Jarod!” Parker actually grabbed his elbow, physically shaking him from the memory. “Something is following us.” She repeated, as he gradually surfaced from the memory of pain and despair.
She gestured behind them, and Jarod listened, hearing the splashing noise that had alerted Parker. Whatever it was, it was big, and traveling quickly. The fact that it made no effort to disguise its presence argued that it was dangerous enough that it didn’t have to fear the mutations afflicting the city. In fact, it could very well be a mutation itself!
“Come on!” Jarod ordered, whirling and breaking into a brisk jog.
He had a feeling their only chance would be to find another door or a ladder before their pursuer caught up with them. The creature behind them roared, a mixture of a hiss and a squeal, but with a volume level that neither had ever heard from a normal creature. Jarod had an uneasy suspicion that it could tell that they were trying to escape it, and broke into an all out run.
“Jarod!” Parker pointed to the narrow opening to their left.
He had no idea where it might lead, but it was only large enough for one person at a time. Hoping that his suspicion that their hunter was large would prove to be correct, he waved Parker in ahead of him. Then he backed into the passage, his shotgun held ready to fire.
“There are stairs!” Parker called out a moment later.
“Get up them!” Jarod shouted urgently, catching a glimpse of their pursuer at last.
His shotgun dropped down and he edged quickly backwards as a reptilian eye, easily the size of a car tire, glared into their escape hole. Another alien bellow, loud enough to prompt Parker to clap her hands over her ears, announced its displeasure at being evaded. Jarod watched in amazement as the creature, so large that it barely fit into the drainage tunnel before him, swung it’s scaly snout to slam into the opening of the service corridor.
Concrete chunks the size of dinner plates crumbled from the walls as the gargantuan alligator pounded its face against the narrow walls in a frenzy of destruction. Jarod, more terrified than he knew he could be, wedged himself around in the corridor, and ran for the stairs.
“GO!” He shouted to Parker as she hesitated before the metal door at the head of the stairs.
The door wasn’t locked, fortunately, and the two of them spilled into the tiny room on the other side with no thought of zombies, Lickers, or any other horror but the one behind them.
“What was it?” Parker demanded, her eyes wide with fright.
“An alligator.” Jarod replied grimly, his eyes searching the room for another door.
He wasn’t about to assume that it couldn’t batter its way after them---he wanted to put as much distance between them as humanly possible.
“An alligator?” Parker gasped disbelievingly.
“An alligator the size of a city bus.” Jarod corrected, finally recognizing the room as storage area for the Parks Department. “And it’s trying to follow us.” He added, heading for the far side of the room.
On the other side of a row of lockers was another narrow corridor. Parker followed Jarod quickly as an impact tremor shook the floor. Jarod dispatched the three zombies in the next room with casual efficiency, no longer horrified by their existence. Compared to what they’d just encountered, the zombies were tame.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Parker asked, sinking tiredly into a cushioned chair behind the single desk in the room.
Jarod peeked cautiously through the blinds out the picture window over the street, trying to match the buildings he saw to the map Jill had sketched for him.
“I’m not sure.” He murmured, frowning at the two largest buildings.
Looking up, he spotted a giant clock on the top of the closest one, recognizing it finally as the “Old Clock Tower”, a building Jill had mentioned. He swung his attention to the other building, larger and brand new in comparison, and identified it as the hospital that he’d hoped to explore.
“Yes.” He told her, satisfaction coloring his voice. “We’re only five blocks to the hospital, and it looks like a clear shot from this street to the emergency entrance.”
“Jarod, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to make any side trips at this point. We need to get out of here. Besides, won’t there be even more---creatures there?” Parker objected.
“I have to, Parker.” He told her, turning the full force of his attention and pleading brown eyes on her. “I’m involved in this somehow, I can feel it. I need to find out.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed and her brows drew together in a menacing frown. This was to counteract the strange melting sensation his beseeching expression brought to her insides. She knew she was right, damn it! This city was dangerous and they needed out of it now, not later. She couldn’t believe her ears when she heard her voice answering.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes in there, then we leave.”
Was she insane, she wondered, or did she just harbor a death wish that she’d never previously noticed?
“An hour.” Jarod countered, asking, not demanding. “I’ll need at least that to check the major research areas.”
“Forty-five minutes.” Parker compromised. “And do you even know where these research areas are?”
“I should be able to figure it out. Hospitals tend to follow the same basic layouts---something like supermarkets.” Jarod accepted her compromise, his eyes fairly blazing with relief.
Parker wasn’t sure what to make of that relief. So what if he’d had a hand in the early exploration of the virus. She knew him well enough that he would never, not even when they were children, have willingly worked on something so universally lethal. One of these days he was going to have to forgive himself for the things the Centre had done with his research---he hadn’t had any control over that, after all.
But you plan to take him back to all that? Her conscience jibed uncomfortably. You have to know what it would do to him to be forced to work for the Centre again. Hell, you know what Lyle did to him the last time. Can you really hand him over?
With the ease of long practice, Parker locked that reasonable voice back into its tiny compartment in her mind and focused on the task at hand.
“What approach do you want to take?” She asked him, looking over the street. Fortunately the stairs from the sewers had left them one story above street level, so they could see most of the street from their vantage point.
“I guess we’ll have to just make a dash.” Jarod answered doubtfully. “I don’t see any real cover. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the street will be empty.”
A dog wandered slowly into view, moving with a strange stiff-legged grace.
“You don’t get lucky,” Parker informed him dryly. “You make it. Give me the magnum.”
“What?” Jarod was understandably confused by her sudden order.
“It’s more powerful than my berretta, and you have the shotgun. I want to pack some punch into my defense. Something about those dogs bothers me.”
She nodded briefly at the five red and brown dogs stalking stiffly around the streets. He understood her misgivings when he realized that the red on them wasn’t fur color, but that peculiar, raw-skin effect brought on by the virus in some victims.
“Yeah.” He agreed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that himself. “In fact, I think we should eliminate them before we expose ourselves fully.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Parker demanded curiously.
“Bait.” Jarod focused his intent eyes on her, taking on his “genius-at-work” persona as he explained. “I’m betting that the dogs will do the same as the zombies---home in on any living being in the area. One of us will have to draw them into a clear line of fire for the other.”
“Are you insane?” Parker questioned incredulously. “That’s suicide!”
“Not necessarily.”
“Yes, necessarily.” She countered flatly. “How the hell have you survived for four years without a keeper anyway?”
She pretended not to notice the faint hurt that flared in his eyes at her thoughtless words. His plan was suicidal, and she’d use any weapon in her arsenal to turn him away from it.
“Why don’t we just go above them?” She asked, eyeing the line of wrecked cars appraisingly. “It would be slower, but if we keep to the line of cars along there, we’ll be out of their reach. If they’re as stupid as the zombies, they’ll never think to jump up on the cars after us. Even if they do, we’ll have a better shot at them from above.”
“How to we get to the cars in the first place?” Jarod questioned reasonably. The cars were a good fifteen feet from the door that led out of this building to the street.
“In relays.” Parker replied promptly, her security training popping the solution up in her mind without effort. “I’ll go first, and you lay down a covering fire if any of them notice me. Then, when I’m up on the roof of the first car, I’ll cover you while you make a break for it.”
“I really don’t like this plan.” Jarod objected, quite mildly, considering that he had visions of Parker’s savaged body dancing past his mind’s eye.
“You got a better one?” She challenged, utterly unaware of his concern.
“No.” He glowered, as if his failure to come up with a superior idea was all her fault, but offered no further complaint as she led the way down the flight of stairs on the far wall of the room.
In the end, they didn’t have to use the cars as a pathway to the hospital. Jarod, more frightened than he’d been in his life, managed to take out four of the dogs while Parker dashed for the first car. He didn’t even wait for them to start for her, he just aimed and fired as she started her run. She picked off the other dog, and two more that were lying just out of sight around a slight bend, from her vantage point on the roof of the car.
“All clear.” She grinned triumphantly as she jumped lightly down to the street beside him.
“Don’t ever do that to me again.” Jarod told her, still shaking with nerves.
“I didn’t know you cared that much.” Parker’s attempt at levity fell somewhat short as the memory of past hurts leaked into her voice.
“I do.” Jarod told her simply, unwilling to allow the pretense of disinterest to continue between them. “I always have. I just didn’t know if you could care back, and I was afraid to find out.”
Confronted with his naked honesty Parker felt the axis of her world tilt with the impact of emotion. Feelings she’d tried so hard to bury resurrected in moments, but she still didn’t know what to do with them.
“I---“ she looked away uncertainly, trying to think of what to say. “I care, Jarod. But I don’t see any future in it. The Centre will win eventually. It always does.”
The bleakness in her eyes told him more about her state of mind than even she knew.
“No, it doesn’t.” Jarod replied quietly. “And it won’t. It’ll never have me again, if I have to kill myself first, and it doesn’t really have you---not if you don’t let them.”
“I don’t know.” She whispered, torn between hope and bare survival.
“Now isn’t the time to make any decisions anyway.” Jarod smiled crookedly, trying to ease some of the turmoil in her heart. “Let’s worry about this after we’re clear of the city.”
“Yeah.” Parker agreed quietly, but her face was contemplative.
Jarod knew that this particular situation, which offered only fates that were clearly worse than death, had finally opened up the shadow of a doubt in her mind. All he could do now was hope. Hope that they escaped this place and lived to really examine the possibilities. Hope that Parker wouldn’t revert to form as soon as the danger passed. And hope for nameless things that he’d never even allowed himself to identify before, for fear that they too would be snatched from him.
Their musings kept them both silent as they mechanically fought their way through the hospital to the basement laboratory Jarod had known intuitively was there.
“What the hell are these things?” Parker stared at the creatures in the floor to ceiling glass cylinders with the same kind of horrified fascination that bystanders have for the scene of an appalling accident.
“The paperwork calls them “Betas”. Apparently the red, skinned-gorilla creatures we fought through to get here were “Alphas”.” Jarod answered absently, his attention fixed solely on the papers.
Parker’s 45 minutes had become an hour, and now nearly two hours. Jarod had led them directly to this basement lab, almost as if he’d known exactly where it was. And in a way he had. All of the weird hidden keys and doors and labyrinthine corridors they’d made their way through so far had given him an instinctive understanding of the paranoid attitude that pervaded Umbrella. He’d known the research would be hidden or sealed away down below the every-day, normal activities of the hospital.
In fact, they hadn’t been hidden, just protected by an elevator requiring a recognized voice to operate it and then the pair of “Hunter Alphas” in the corridor leading to the two rooms they were in now. The Alphas were formidable, their mouths and jaws wider than an ordinary simian and their teeth pointed. Added to that weaponry were ridiculously long claw tips on the ends of their fingers. The creatures would never have survived in the wild, they were too poorly put together, but they made excellent guards with their unthinking violence.
Parker now bore a poultice of herbs on her upper left arm, thanks to the death throes of one of the creatures as she passed by. It had spasmed just as she was edging past it in the narrow corridor. The brutal claws were just as sharp after death as they had been in the misshapen creature’s life, and it scored two long gashes on her arm and a third shallower cut. Jarod, afraid that the creatures had venom in addition to their other modifications, had insisted on dressing it immediately with a dressing comprising all three of the miracle herbs he’d assembled.
Like him, Parker had been startled by the burning sensation, but it quickly passed. Now she hardly seemed to notice the injury, but then, the Betas were pretty interesting, in a morbid way. Where the Alphas were obviously of simian stock, the Betas appeared to be, of all things, mutated frogs. They were the same general size and bulk as the Alphas, slightly larger than most men, and they were also bipedal, with long claws tipping their “hands”. But they were green in coloration, with mouths wide enough to engulf a man to his waist and small round eyes set to the sides of the broad face.
One of the creatures she was watching opened and closed its mouth slowly, much like a fish forcing water through its gills, and startling Parker. She’d assumed they were dead and suspended in formaldehyde or something.
“Jarod!” She called, as it flexed it’s clawed hands. “They’re alive!”
Jarod looked up, his hands already shuffling the papers together into a neat pile. It immediately became clear to him that the creatures were becoming agitated. One backhanded the glass tube containing it, but the water it was surrounded with muted the blow.
“Let’s go.” He suggested, not willing to take the chance that the glass would hold. “I’ve got what I need here.”
“Right.” Parker moved quickly to join Jarod at the airlock-type door leading to the outer room. Both creatures were now thrashing around in the fluid, although they’d done no discernable damage to their containers. Still, Parker breathed a sigh of relief when the door sealed behind them with a sibilant hiss.
“We’re leaving now, right?” She didn’t ask so much as demand.
“No.” He winced inwardly in anticipation of her response and hurried on to explain. “There’s an antidote on the fourth floor, if these papers are correct.”
“Like a vaccine?” She demanded, already weighing the potential benefit against the risks.
“Not quite. It needs to be refined, tested more, and put into an appropriate base, but there’s a good chance that it will at least confer some immunity, even if it doesn’t cure someone outright. If nothing else, it’s a good start.”
“Damn it, Jarod, this isn’t your problem to fix!”
“Yes it is.” He answered bleakly. “I remember now. I remember doing simulations on creating viruses to recode the genetic structure, although I was told it was to be used to cure disease and birth defects. I also remember working on a “tyrant” virus---a virus that mutated itself and mutated its victim, with terrifying speed. I refined it, trying to alter it into something beneficial. This is all based on my work.”
“Then why do you need their work on the antidote? Can’t you just come up with your own?”
“No. The virus has been altered too much. It would take me months of research just to get close. I’ve got to get a sample of this antidote to work from. I’ve already gotten samples of the strain of T-virus they were working on.”
“I don’t have to tell you how little I like the idea of us running around with samples of that stuff, do I?” Parker mentioned, hiding her trepidation behind her usual sarcastic front.
“Don’t worry.” He smiled faintly. “I’m making us inoculations before we leave the hospital. We’ve just been lucky not to have gotten infected yet.”
“Gee, thanks, I feel much better now.” Somehow she’d assumed that the virus had lost its potency without new victims. Learning that it just hadn’t managed to get them yet didn’t reassure Parker in the least.
“Fourth floor.” He told Parker briskly, slinging his backpack into place after having carefully stowed the paperwork in an outer pocket. He picked up his shotgun and walked towards the door, knowing Parker would follow eventually.
She sighed in exasperation, but indulged him. The news that they could still turn in to one of those monsters unnerved her enough that she was willing to give Jarod the benefit of the doubt in his obsession over finding a cure.
“Besides, I have an idea for getting out of the city without fighting any more monsters.” He gave her a winning grin over his shoulder.
“What?” She demanded suspiciously.
“You’ll see.” His grin deepened. He still delighted in tormenting her from time to time.
She swallowed another exasperated sigh, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and used the tape recorded doctor’s notes they’d found to activate the elevator. It was odd that the elevator only offered three choices to them, but Jarod had postulated that those choices were based on the doctor’s clearance. This guy had obviously been neck deep in the research aspect of this disease, and Parker felt a certain amount of angry satisfaction to think that he’d either gotten the virus, or, more likely, been killed at the hands of one of viruses creations.
She and Jarod were each lost in thought as the elevator rose in its preprogrammed route. They didn’t pay attention, at first, when the doors opened on the Doctors’ Lounge, as they’d boarded the elevator from that room, and knew it was clean of monsters. Normal humans, on the other hand, they did not expect.
“Hey! Who the hell are you?”
Parker and Jarod swung their weapons to the ready without thought, and the strange young man had them already covered. This tableau held for several long moments before Jarod relaxed slightly and lowered the barrel of his shotgun a fraction.
“You’re with Umbrella, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice deceptively mild.
He recognized the green jacket the man wore, and caught a glimpse of the red and white umbrella embalm on the back of it, which made him immediately suspicious of the individual. He looked like a nice enough guy, with brown hair a shade lighter than Jarod’s and similarly brown eyes, but Jarod wasn’t going to trust him until he knew for sure that the man was an innocent dupe to Umbrella, not a co-conspirator.
“Yeah. We were sent in to rescue civilians, but you two are the first I’ve seen that were rescue-able. As far as I know, I’m the last of us left alive, though, so I don’t know how much help I’d be at this point.” The boy’s eyes were just as wary as Jarod and Parker’s, and his weapon remained ready.
“So what are you doing at the hospital?” Jarod probed. “Surely you know that anyone here would probably be in the last stages of the infection by now.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” The boy’s Hispanic accent grew stronger as he struggled with himself over some internal issue. “I’m looking for something to fight the virus. My companion just got infected, and I’ve got to help her out. She’s saved my bacon a time or two and now it’s payback time.”
“Didn’t you just say you’re the last one left?” Parker pounced on the inconsistency.
“She’s not an Umbrella Merc. like me, she’s a cop---sort of.”
“Jill?” Jarod asked instantly, not really believing it could be the woman who’d clued him into this conflict, but hoping nonetheless. “Jill Valentine?”
“How’d you know that?” The boy’s gun moved to train on Jarod’s forehead.
“Jill and I met earlier.” Jarod answered, relieved beyond measure that she had survived this far, and concerned that she was now infected. “She clued me in to a lot of what’s been happening. Probably saved my life. Maybe she mentioned me? I’m Jarod.”
“Nope, she didn’t.” But the gun finally came down as the young man decided to trust them, at least a little. “But if she helped you, maybe now you can help her. She’s really sick. That Nemesis thing managed to infect her somehow.”
“Nemesis thing?” Parker didn’t like the sound of that.
“Big guy.” The mercenary said shortly. “Can’t miss him, every time you kill him he comes back stronger than ever, and he’s been gunning for Jill from the start.”
“Why?” That was from Jarod.
“I don’t know. All he ever says is, S.T.A.R.S….”
“Sounds like he’s after Jill then.” Jarod agreed grimly. “She’s probably the last S.T.A.R.S. member left alive in the city.”
“Look, it’s been fun, but I gotta find her an antidote quick.” He replied briskly, tapping his gun impatiently against his leg. “So, if you got any ideas, now would be a good time to share them.”
“I think there’s something on the fourth floor.” Jarod told the young man, willing now to trust him. “I’ve been going through the paperwork left by the doctors, looking for a cure myself.”
“You one of them?” Jarod was pretty sure that the man meant one of the researchers that created the virus, as opposed to one of the doctors.
“No. I didn’t create this virus.” He answered, telling his remaining guilt to shut up and stay put when it stirred in his belly. “But I know enough microbiology to decipher the notes they left behind.”
“Good enough.” The boy was trusting, Jarod thought with amusement. “Let’s get going then. I’m Carlos, by the way, and you are?”
Jarod turned his face towards the elevator wall as Carlos turned the full force of what he obviously considered to be irresistible Latin charm on Parker.
“Not your type.” She answered quellingly. “But you can call me Miss Parker, if you need anything.”
“Brrrr.” Carlos shivered with mock fear. “Sorry, your Highness, just being friendly.”
“Miss Parker never got the chance to learn how to be friendly.” Jarod teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “She’s been too busy being efficient, intimidating, and bossy.”
“And don’t you forget it, Ratboy.” She replied serenely, recognizing his intention to lighten the atmosphere.
Carlos, watching their interaction, leaped to the obvious conclusion that they had a “Thing” going and soothed his manly ego with the thought that she’d have gone for him if she hadn’t already had a man. Probably she was just hiding her attraction to him to protect this Jarod guy’s feelings. Besides, he hated “bossy” in a woman.
“You really think there’s something to help Jill up here?” He asked Jarod as the elevator rose.
“I think so, but I might be wrong.” Jarod answered cautiously. “The notes I found in the basement indicated the serum was stored up here, but someone might have removed it when the disaster started.”
The door opened, and all three occupants heard and recognized the familiar click-click-click sound of a slowly approaching Hunter. Carlos sighed in exasperation, Jarod’s jaw clenched, and Parker rolled her eyes.
“Let me.” She ordered, moving into the hallway and placing her back against the wall to the right of the elevator.
Fortunately, the elevator was at the end of the hallway, and not in the middle where they’d be vulnerable from two sides. She raised the magnum, which they’d found to be slightly more effective than the shotgun, and sighted on the corner where the Hunter would have to approach. It was just too bad that the Hunter decided to make one of their extraordinary leaps, which had the effect of making it materialize at the end of the hallway, rather than simply appear.
Parker lost a few valuable seconds adjusting her aim, while the Hunter sprinted towards her. It was amazingly fast for something with short, bowed legs, but Parker was an expert marksman. The bullet flew from her gun to the creature’s tiny brain as if it had homing device implanted, and the Hunter screamed horribly, arching its back in agony as it died. She shuddered in response, some atavistic part of her mind insisting that this sound portended danger, not the end of danger.
As soon as the echoes died down, all three humans listened intently for the sound of another Hunter, but it was blessedly quiet. Parker announced the “all-clear” and the trio moved out of the elevator and down the hall. This hallway was wider than the one in the basement, and they all edged past the twitching corpse without mishap.
The hallway turned north and then veered back to the west, with a hall bearing south opening up about halfway down. They turned down that hall, deferring further exploration in the hope that their prize would be in one of the two rooms they could see down there. Jarod tried the first door, and found it locked. He and Carlos moved down to try the second door, but Parker rooted around in her jean pockets and knelt before the locked door.
The two men entered the second room as Parker began the delicate process of picking the lock, using a lock pick set she’d picked up from the S.T.A.R.S. room back at the police station. She succeeded after two abortive tries, just as the men walked back out in the hall.
“We found a wall safe, but it’s locked.” Carlos informed her glumly.
“I could crack it, if I had the right equipment.” Jarod grumbled.
“Well, I’ve opened this door, let’s see what’s inside it.”
Parker stood, refolding the tools she’d used into their slender black cloth carrying case and stashing them back in her jeans. Then she opened the door and stepped boldly through.
Bodies. The room was full of bodies. Two were medical personnel, on either side of the door, and another three were obviously victims of the virus. They were quiescent, but Parker didn’t trust that they were actually dead. She stopped just inside the door, and gestured at Carlos and Jarod to wait where they were. Her eyes swept the room again, looking for anything helpful.
Nothing looked especially useful, and she was about to leave, when she decided to look over the medics a little more closely. The one closest to her, was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. Parker crouched down and carefully pulled it from his stiff fingers.
At her movement, the civilian body closest to her came to life, so to speak, and began to drag himself towards her. Parker briefly considered killing him, but decided to save her ammo. She stepped quickly over the doorjamb, pulling the door shut behind her. They had yet to have encountered a zombie that could open doors, so that pretty well solved that problem.
“What’d you find?” Carlos eyed the paper eagerly, obviously concerned about the amount of time he’d been away from his friend Jill.
“Numbers.” Parker answered slowly, checking out the bloodstained paper with a lowering sensation of disappointment. “Three Five One.”
“Do you think---?” Carlos threw a hopeful look at Jarod who shrugged slightly.
“That could be the combination.” He agreed, heading back for the other door. “It seems too simple, but it could work.”
To Jarod’s amazement, it did work. The safe opened with a gust of cold air revealing rows of test tubes in two holding racks. Jarod intercepted Carlos’ Questing hand and pulled it down, gesturing the other two to move back slightly.
“Let me do this, who knows if they’ve got another trap set up.”
Parker nodded at Carlos to do as Jarod said, and backed up a few steps herself. She watched with veiled concern and Jarod cautiously lifted the first of the racks into his hand. Nothing happened.
Jarod carried the tubes over to the wide window ledge and returned to pick up the second rack, closing the safe door on his way back. He then studied the labels on the tubes for several long minutes.
“Parker, see if you can find some syringes and needles in the cabinets over there.” Jarod ordered over his shoulder as he carefully selected several vials. “And some of those rubbing alcohol wipes.”
“You found it?” Carlos demanded with youthful excitement.
“I think so.” Jarod smiled reassuringly. “First I’m going to vaccinate the three of us against the T-virus. It should make us immune, but one never knows, so don’t take stupid chances, okay?”
Carlos nodded, presenting his left shoulder without objection as Jarod filled three syringes with a blue colored fluid. Parker winced slightly when Jarod jabbed the needle into her biceps and he did the same when Parker gleefully reciprocated the shot.
“Okay, this’ll be a lot like a tetanus shot, no, more like a typhoid shot.” He corrected himself. “You’re going to have a sore arm in a couple of hours, and the area around the shot will probably swell somewhat and be hot to the touch. You may even develop a fever and general body aches, like a case of the flu. That’s because this injection is actually dead t-virus cells, which will stimulate our immune system to produce antibodies. Your body will think you’ve been infected, even though you aren’t, and react accordingly until it eradicates all trace of the foreign cells.”
“What about Jill? Isn’t her body already producing antibodies?” Carlos question worriedly.
“Probably, but it won’t be enough. She’s going to require more in-depth treatment. Do you have any medical training at all?” Jarod hoped so, because he didn’t have time to go with Carlos to treat Jill. He sensed time was running out for him and Parker. He felt an urgent need to be moving, and moving quickly.
“Yeah, I got the basics. It was part of our training.”
“Can you start an I.V.?” Jarod questioned.
“Sure. I was pretty good at that, unlike most of my fellow trainees.” Carlos’ smile held a tinge of disdain for his “weaker” companions. “Most of them got queasy when they had to poke someone.”
“Right, then here’s what I want you to do:” Jarod ignored Carlos’ boasting and kept to the subject. “You’re going to have to start a saline I.V. for her, I’m sure you can find a pack of them somewhere around this place, and set the flow to three drops a minute, can you do that?”
Carlos nodded, his features seeming suddenly more mature as he dedicated Jarod’s instructions to memory.
“Good. Once you’ve got that set up, I want you to inject the bag with this vial, and mix the solution as best you can. Make sure Jill get the entire bag, and then repeat the procedure. Then, after she’s gotten both bags, inject her with 5 ccs of this.” He held up a vial with a blood red fluid.
“And then she’ll be okay?” His eyes were suddenly young again and pleading for reassurance.
“She should be. This combination seems to attack the molecular cohesion of the virus. But you should also vaccinate her with 5 ccs of this blue stuff in about a week. Especially if she plans to keep messing with Umbrella.”
“Yeah.” Carlos agreed, not seeming in the slightest bit upset that Jill might be trying to destroy the company that employed him.
Jarod was relieved at his attitude, hoping that the young man had realized what scum his bosses were, but afraid that he still felt loyalty to them. But Carlos had evidently seen enough to know who his friends and enemies really were.
“Okay. Parker and I should be out of the city soon.” Jarod went on. “I’d try to take you and Jill with us, but I doubt she’ll be ready to move until morning at the earliest, and we just can’t wait that long. We’ll send back help if we can, though.”
“I understand.”
Jarod could see he did understand. Perhaps being a mercenary had opened him up to the realities of war. There was no condemnation in his eyes at Jarod’s choice to leave while he could.
Jarod nodded once, and shook Carlos’ hand before turning to carefully pack the samples into a Coleman cooler he’d stolen from the basement. He’d known, the moment he saw it, that the samples would undoubtedly need to be kept cool, and carried the prize along in hopes he could use it. Behind him, Parker and Carlos nodded goodbye to each other, Parker carefully projecting an attitude of “don’t-touch-me” to Carlos. She suspected he’d have willingly used their leave taking as an excuse to attempt some intimacy, and she wasn’t willing to be pawed by the young pup.
“So, what’s your big escape plan?” She asked Jarod as the door swung shut behind Carlos.
“This is a hospital.” Jarod told her, his expression encouraging her to guess.
“Yes, so?”
“So, there’s probably a helicopter port on the roof. Jill said that the hospital was brand new, and the newer hospitals tend to have them.”
“You’re hoping there’s still a chopper there?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jarod clicked shut the Coleman cooler and headed for the door. “I’m betting on it.”
“Okay, Einstein, how do you expect us to get to the roof? The elevator’s locked, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Stairs.” Jarod answered smugly.
“Right. And those would be hiding, where?”
Now that she considered it, Parker wondered where the hell the stairs were hiding. It was totally against all U.S. fire codes for a building this tall not to have stairs or fire escapes, and none of the newer buildings used fire escapes any more. The metal was too expensive and too vulnerable to the elements. She looked at Jarod, who continued to grin like the cat who’d gotten into the cream.
“Where?” She repeated, with just a hint of threat in her voice.
“Behind the secret panel by the elevators.” He answered, moving a picture on the wall in front of the elevator doors and pressing the indented square behind it.
The wall slid silently back, opening up an entrance just wide enough for a single person to pass through. It was doubtful that anything had penetrated this secret route, but Parker and Jarod kept their guard up anyway. They increased their vigilance when they passed a human body stuck into a corner with pounds of sticky spider silk. Neither of the two felt the slightest regret when they reached the roof of the hospital without ever glimpsing the web spinner. Jarod was so relieved he didn’t even tell Parker “I told you so” when they spotted the heliport, complete with three small hangars for choppers.
They took the first one they found. It was fully fueled and in perfect working order. Jarod sped through the pre-flight checklist, although he was still thorough, and then he lifted the chopper off the ground under its own power and inched it through the open doors of the hangar.
It was a risky move, requiring expert ability and superior reflexes, but Jarod made it look easy. Parker caught him looking down in regret as he accelerated toward the west of town, and knew he was thinking of Jill and Carlos.
“We’ll come back for them.” She reminded him gently, wishing somehow she could get him to be a little easier on himself.
“I hope so.” He replied with muted concern. “But these samples are more important than their lives.”
Parker’s eyes widened at that, but after a moment of reflection, she realized he was right, as usual. Umbrella had already had two outbreaks of this virus, there was no telling what they’d do next. Analyzing the virus, and the antidote that they’d come up with, was imperative.
“Where are you taking us?” Parker asked him, hoping to turn his thoughts towards the future.
He couldn’t do anything for Jill right now, so he’d do better to focus on something more positive. Sometimes she still wondered just how he’d managed for so long without a keeper.
“I’ve got a friend who can get me access to the kind of equipment I need to work with this stuff.” He answered somewhat evasively. “He might even be able to send someone after Jill and Carlos.”
Parker accepted his secretive manner, accustomed to it after a lifetime at the Centre, and set herself instead to deciding her next move. Would she take this chance to throw the Centre over? Could she just walk away? Or would she take Jarod in and finally see the light of pride in her father’s eyes?
“They think you’re dead by now.” Jarod mentioned casually, irritating her with his everlasting omniscience.
“I know.” She replied shortly.
“You could be free.” He pressed. “We could both be free.”
“What about Angelo and Ethan and my brother? What about your family and everything the Centre stands for?” She demanded irritably. “Are you just going to walk away from all that?”
“No. But I can dig more circumspectly, and with your help I can accomplish so much more.” It was almost a plea, for all that Jarod kept his voice carefully neutral.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Parker, too, kept her voice neutral, not about to risk rejection from him.
He hazarded a quick glance her way, dangerous at the low altitude he’d kept the helicopter to. He was trying to avoid radar detection, but they ran a real risk of impacting on a tall tree or even a mountain peak. To make matters worse, twilight was falling quickly and it would soon be fully dark. Somehow that seemed symbolic to Jarod. Flying too close to the ground, trying to avoid collisions in the dark.
“Yes.” He answered simply, frightened by his own daring, but desperate to end the parry and thrust of mock battle between them. “Yes, I do. I miss you, Miss P., and I’m tired of being all alone, and I think you are too, for all that you’ve got your family there at the Centre.”
Her quick intake of breath told him he’d struck a nerve, but he didn’t dare look over now to see if it was for the better or worse.
“What about Sydney and Broots?” Her voice sounded strangled.
“We’ll work it out, somehow.” He promised her, hoping that her objection did preclude an outright rejection.
“Sydney will be devastated if he thinks you’re dead.” She protested.
“I know.” His regret was clear, but his resolve remained firm.
“What would we do?”
He breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
“We’ll develop an antidote to this virus first. Then we’ll take out the Centre. After that, I think Umbrella might need our attention. After that, who knows?” He told her, keeping his elation firmly suppressed.
“First, we get Angelo, and Sydney, and Broots, and my baby brother away from the Centre and someplace safe.” Parker countered. “Or maybe I’ll handle that while you analyze your samples.”
“No. We’ll do it together.” He declared firmly. “From now on, we do it together---right?”
His assurance faltered suddenly, and he chanced another glance to her side of the cockpit. She was smiling at him, the smile full of irony that was belied by the tears in her eyes.
“All right. We’ll figure it out together.” She told him, her low voice husky with emotion that she still found difficult to express. “God knows, you’ve needed a keeper for years.”
“Hey, watch that!” Jarod protested, deliberately lighting the mood for her. “I’m a genius, remember.”
“Yeah, so?” She parried. “You’re a genius who stumbles from near disaster to near disaster. What have you done without me all these years?”
“I missed you.” Jarod told her again, seriously and with all the longing in his heart. “Even when I hated you, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She admitted so quietly that Jarod had to strain to hear the soft words. “I missed you when Daddy sent me away to boarding school. I missed you when I came back to head Centre Security. And I missed you most of all when you ran away. I haven’t been hunting you all these years for Daddy’s sake, I’ve done it for my own---I just couldn’t admit it.”
Jarod grinned in the darkness, throttling back the helicopter to give it lift to soar as high as his suddenly light heart. As soon as they passed over the Arklay Mountains they’d be able to radio his friend. And then they could start a whole new life---a new partnership.
The End?
Resident Jarod?
by Rebeckah
"It's pretty obvious that there's been another accident."
It was the final line in the story she'd recited in answer to Jarod's questions. The story was strange to the point of being unbelievable, Jarod thought, studying the slender, auburn haired woman sitting on the bed in front of him, but she clearly believed every word. She ignored his introspection and went on with the cleaning of her gun with an obsessive attention to detail.
She reminded him of Parker in many ways. Oh, her hair was lighter and she lacked Parker's inches, but she had the same core of strength and iron determination to survive, no matter what the obstacles were. And her story, while fantastic, lined up perfectly with what he'd already observed in the past few days.
He'd arrived at Raccoon City almost a week ago, just as the first cases of the plague that had quarantined the city began to be noticed. He wasn't sure yet if he should thank Angelo for bringing this place to his attention, or curse him. If he survived the next few days, and managed to escape, he'd decide then. In the meantime, he was going to do his best to investigate the reality of Angelo's e-mail. It contained the carefully reconstructed reports of an incident in a mansion outside the city limits that had wiped out nearly every member of one S.T.A.R.S. unit, and almost half of another.
In fact, the woman before him, Jill Valentine, was one of the chief witnesses he'd hoped to find when he planned this investigation. The coincidence of their meeting, shortly after he'd given up on his search and was about to leave the place, felt uncomfortably like fate. And she'd had the information he'd been looking for, if he could only believe it. He’d seen some of what she was talking about for himself, and he was still wondering about his sanity.
Zombies? The Living Dead? Animals mutating into ravenous, huge, and often virtually unstoppable, creatures? Most of the mutations Jill had mentioned to him were of creatures so vastly changed that she couldn't even tell what they'd been originally.
It was like something from a low-budget B-film. And it was undisputedly happening. No amount of wishful thinking was going to make this nightmare go away.
"Okay, let me see if I've got this all straight." Jarod began.
"Better make it quick, I'm leaving soon." Jill observed, looking up briefly from the collection of objects on her bed.
Jarod realized, with some admiration, that she was cobbling together her own grenades with her spare gunpowder and objects she'd dug up around the hotel. They'd spent the night together, not from any attraction, but from necessity.
Jarod had met up with Jill as she attempted to leave the city, and was detained by the mercenaries Umbrella had hired to find her. They were augmenting the military blockade around the city, with the country's grateful permission. He'd just been turned back by those same men, when the sounds of excitement drew his attention back to the checkpoint.
Even if he hadn't recognized Jill from a picture in his files, he'd have gone to help her. Two gorilla-like men were twisting her arms up behind her while a third removed the black wig she'd used in a vain attempt to conceal her identity. Before they could disarm her, though, Jarod had disabled one man and was engaging another. Jill took care of the third by herself. She'd then coolly appropriated the men's weapons and ammo, and jumped into their jeep before any of the other mercenaries could respond to the commotion.
She hadn't been happy when Jarod jumped in the passenger seat beside her, but she couldn't really complain after his help.
"Can you fire one of these?" She asked, tossing him magnum and putting the jeep into gear.
"Yes." He'd affirmed briefly. He'd done more than one Pretend within the various branches of the military, and he was quite familiar with weapons. "But I'm not prepared to kill these men---yet."
She laughed mirthlessly.
"Do you know what the zombies look like?"
She asked, forcing down the slightly hysterical laughter as she spun the jeep around to head back into the city.
In spite of the martial law, and the fact that the mercenaries were obviously a threat, Jarod was deeply reluctant to return to the beleaguered streets of Raccoon City.
"Zombie?" He had repeated incredulously. "Like from the movies?"
"Close enough." She'd affirmed shortly. "Except that these guys are created by a virus and not black magic. Half of the city must be infected by now, which means that half of the city wants nothing but our blood. You'd better be prepared to use that if you want to tag along with me."
The half-hearted pursuit that had followed them disappeared within moments after they re-entered the strangely menacing city. Jill knew the territory far better than any of the mercenaries, and they weren't too keen on taking on the monstrosities that they'd heard now inhabited the place. But no matter how competent she seemed, Jarod was seriously wondering about her sanity---until she pulled the jeep to a halt in front of a burning pile of cars blocking their progress.
"Damn! I was hoping to make it to the station." She muttered, looking around for an alternative route. There wasn't one. The side streets and alleys had all been blocked, either by accidents, or by human design.
That was when Jarod saw his first zombie. It shuffled out from the shadows of some stairs, its eyes white and filmy and its face utterly blank. Shots rang out next to him as Jill pumped bullet after bullet into the thing's head. It finally dropped, but didn't die until it had dragged itself nearly to them, moaning its hunger the entire time.
"C'mon." She ordered him, taking pity on his obvious shock. "We'll go through that gun shop---maybe we can pick up more ammo from it on our way through."
"It took five shots to the head!" Jarod murmured to himself, following Jill's lead numbly.
"Side effects of the virus. They're nearly impossible to kill and seem to feel no pain." Jill informed him, dodging around a female zombie trying to intercept them. She was in better shape than the other---one eye was actually normal---but there wasn't a trace of intelligence on her face. "Fortunately, it also makes them incredibly slow and clumsy. We wouldn't stand a chance otherwise."
She banged on the shop door, waited about five heartbeats, and then used the butt of her gun to break the window. Jarod fired on the approaching female zombie, fighting to put aside his horror and think clearly. He'd had practice dealing with his fears all of his life, but he'd never faced a situation as appalling as this.
Even now, the memories made him want to shudder uncontrollably. The struggle to fight through the never-ending waves of zombies, to find a safe place, had melded in his mind into one nightmare montage. He still didn't remember exactly how he and Jill had made it to the comparative safety of this hotel. And it was Jill's insistence that had put them up here on the third floor. She'd maintained that they were less likely to encounter zombies upstairs, and claimed that even if there were zombies up here, once they killed them there would be no more. Most zombies simply couldn't climb stairs. It seemed that she had been right, because they'd been left strictly alone, even when she had led him on a foraging run earlier this morning. He dragged his mind back to the present with difficulty.
"Right. Now, Umbrella, Inc. has been experimenting in bio-weapons. A couple of months ago their latest virus escaped and killed the researchers of a hidden complex just outside of town."
"Yep. And more than half of my teammates, and quite a few innocent tourists too."
"But when the rest of you made it back here, no one would believe you?" Jarod questioned dubiously.
"Oh, they believed us, the ones who actually heard our story, but this city is owned by Umbrella. The corporation has bought the mayor, possibly the police chief, and most of the city council. Most of the citizens are only too happy to go along with the official Umbrella line, because Umbrella funded our shiny new hospital and City Hall and other lovely improvements. Hell, half the people here are employed by Umbrella in one way or another."
"So they buried your reports and tried to pretend nothing ever happened."
"Yep. Except that they also tried to get rid of the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. members---the ones that didn't die at the mansion."
"But what caused this?" Jarod questioned, waving his arm towards the window to the hotel room to indicate the city outside.
"Like I said," Jill repeated slowly, as if to a particularly stupid child. "There's obviously been another accident."
Satisfied with her preparations, Jill stood up and began distributing her homemade grenades around her person. Her handgun lay gleaming on the bedspread. They'd used up the majority of their ammo just to get this far. Jarod wondered just where she intended to go now, and how she intended to get there alive.
"What are you planning to do now?"
"Only thing I can do---get out of Dodge." She replied tersely, scooping up the gun.
"You're running away?" Jarod was astonished.
"There's nothing left to do. Those people," Jill pointed out the window, "are already dead. It's more important that I get out, with any proof of Umbrella's involvement that I can gather, and carry on the fight to take them down."
"What about a cure?"
"As far as I know, there isn't one. Even if there is one, do you really think Umbrella would volunteer it? They aren't about to admit that this disaster is of their making?"
"You said that Umbrella built the hospital, do you think they were using it as a base to research this --- stuff?"
"Could be." Jill allowed grudgingly, starting towards the door. "But I don't think I'll have the time to check it out. Are you coming with me, Mr. Salk?" Her wry grin made it obvious that she recognized his pseudonym for what it was.
"You're going down there? They'll kill you!" Jarod quailed at the thought of facing the abominations waiting at street level again.
"The zombies failed once with me, I'm betting they'll fail again. I know how to fight them now." She answered calmly. "Besides, this room will only be safe for a short time. Eventually they'll come looking for us, even up here."
"What about going up?" Jarod questioned reasonably. "From what I've seen, the zombies aren't very coordinated. We might be halfway safe if we took to the rooftops."
"It's a sensible idea, but it won't work for me. I'm not tall enough to jump between some of these buildings. Besides, I need ammo, and I'm more likely to find that at street level. If you want to try the roofs, go for it." Jill advised him. "Just remember one thing: “Animals get mutated too…
"At the mansion birds were attacking people like something from a Poe story and there were creatures that I didn't even recognize. There's no telling what you'll run across up there, so be prepared."
"On second thought," Jarod reconsidered, recognizing the voice of experience when he heard it. "I think I'll take my chances with you. But I'm almost out of ammo for this thing."
"I'm headed for the Police Station first to see what weapons I can salvage. You're welcome to anything I don't need. If you run out of bullets along the way, keep the gun anyway. You can use it as a club, if worse comes to worse, and there ought to be munitions there. In the meantime, take this, its better than nothing."
She tossed Jarod a long hunting knife that she'd had strapped to her calf-high boots.
"Stay close." She advised him, cracking the door to check the status in the hallway.
It was empty, for the moment. The longer a person had been infected, the lower their intelligence and coordination became. Since their room was on the third floor, it was unlikely that any new zombies had made their way up three flights of stairs, much less mastered the elevator. On the other hand, any of the other rooms on this floor could have an infected person inside. Somehow, even though their brains were barely functioning and some had cataracts blinding both eyes, the zombies could sense the presence of the living with uncanny speed.
Jill met Jarod's eyes briefly, gave a brisk nod, and eased into the corridor. Jarod mimicked her movements and they both began to tiptoe down the hallway as silently as humanly possible. Halfway to the stairs they heard a sound that raised the hairs on the back of Jarod's neck.
It was a low moan, combining pain and hunger, and accompanied by a particular shuffling sound. One of the doors shivered as the zombie inside began mindlessly banging into it in an attempt to get at the two people it sensed on the other side.
"Shit!" Jill hissed, breaking into a sprint. "We've got to avoid contact as long as possible." She explained as they burst through the doors to the stairwell.
"Ammo's that low?" Jarod asked with understandable concern.
"It's lower than that." Jill admitted grimly. "I've got 15 shots left and these two grenades."
But the bottom of the stairwell was blocked by several more zombies, milling around restlessly, but unable to navigate the stairs up to the people above them. Jill and Jarod backtracked to the second floor, and made their way to the elevator unmolested.
"But they're waiting down there!" Jarod protested when she pushed the button for the lobby.
"As soon as the doors open, make a break for it. I'll try to hold them off."
Jill pulled out a grenade and lit the fuse just as the elevator indicated they'd reached the lobby. But when the doors opened, and the two of them burst out, there were more zombies than either of them had expected. Jill ended up on the right of them and Jarod on the left, near a set of double doors leading to the service portion of the hotel.
"Run, Jarod!" Jill hollered urgently. "It'll explode soon!"
She'd tossed the grenade into the middle of the approaching monsters as she dashed around them.
"I'll try to get to the police station!" Jarod shouted back, ducking towards the double doors. "Go on without me."
The doors had barely swung shut when the homemade bomb went off, taking out most of the creatures in one explosion. Unfortunately for Jarod, three kitchen chefs and several hotel maids were waiting for him, their skin mottled and faces as mindless as the others. All too aware of his lack of ammo, Jarod ducked passed them on the other side of the long counter dividing the kitchen space and slid through the door leading to the back alley. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he realized that it was empty, at least for the moment.
The next two hours merged in his memory as an nightmare mosaic of dread. Dodging the endlessly reaching hands of the walking dead, backtracking time after time as he encountered roadblock after roadblock, and scavenging ammo from the corpses of police, mercenaries, ---even the occasional armed civilian. The horrors were endless and he finally ended up operating more from instinct than intelligence. It saved him countless times, but it almost killed the woman. He almost blew her away when he came across her, simply by reflex.
"Don't shoot! I'm human!" She exclaimed, her brown eyes wide with fright, but the hand holding her berretta on him was as steady as his own magnum.
He assessed her condition with one quick glance. Dirty, disheveled, and tired, she was still relatively unharmed and appeared healthy.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked anyway.
He'd discovered, through an unpleasant encounter earlier, that an infected person could change from relatively normal to zombie in a matter of minutes. But she wasn't scratching herself, which Jarod had learned the hard way was a sure-fire indication of this illness, so her assertion that she felt fine didn't surprise him.
"But that looks bad." She pointed to the sluggishly bleeding tear on his leg. Already the flesh around it was red, swollen and tender.
"I didn't realize it got me!" Jarod was astounded, looking down, to see the injury.
He shuddered, remembering the terror as the corpse he'd blithely walked passed had come to life, snagging his leg and chewing voraciously on his ankle. Another lesson learned the hard way.
"Here." The girl sat him down on the steps of the nearest house and carefully inspected the nasty looking wound.
"It couldn't have happened more than half an hour ago." Jarod protested. "How'd it get infected so quickly?"
"I have no idea." She replied. "But my brother told me Raccoon City has some plants that have nearly miraculous healing properties." She went on. "Sit here for a sec, I'm going to take a look around."
Her shoulder length brown hair was gathered into a simple pony tail and she wore pink jean cutoffs and a pink jean vest over a simple short sleeved, mid-thigh, black leotard. On the back of her vest was an embroidered angel, wearing an outrageously short, white dress and holding a bomb. The words stitched out above her, "Made in Heaven", nearly made Jarod laugh. Heaven had nothing to do with this hellish place.
High up on her left shoulder was a knife that was only slightly shorter than the one Jarod carried thrust through his belt, and her knee high, leather boots were arguably far more practical for this environment than Jarod's Reeboks.
"My name's Claire." She called out as she approached him, her hands filled with the red and green stems and leaves of some plant. "Claire Redfield. I'm looking for my brother Chris. You live here, or are you looking for someone too?"
"Jarod." He offered. "Jarod Johnson. I came looking for information on this disease. I didn't realize that I was walking into a total disaster."
"Me either." Claire's lips tightened grimly as she used a rock to grind up her plants on the cement steps. "I knew something was wrong, but not how bad it was. Chris wrote me after the mansion incident---"
"He's in S.T.A.R.S.?" Jarod interrupted.
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I was with Jill Valentine until just a few hours ago. We got separated by zombies, but she's headed for the police station. I don't suppose you know where that is?" Jarod asked hopefully.
"Just a few more blocks." Claire grinned encouragingly. "I'm headed there myself. Want to join forces?"
"Yes." Jarod's answering smile turned into a grimace as Claire slathered the mixture of herbs on his leg and slapped a gauze bandage over it to hold the stuff on.
"That burns!" He protested.
"Good. That means I got the right plants." Claire responded briskly, binding the gauze to his leg with some surgical tape. "According to Chris this stuff is great. If he wasn't exaggerating, you'll hardly know you were hurt at all in an hour or two."
"Nothing's that good." Jarod countered skeptically.
"I don't know. Chris isn't prone to exaggeration." Claire informed Jarod, her lips quirking with humor. "How's the leg feel now?"
"Better!" Jarod was surprised again, and sat down, as if to remove the bandage and examine the wound, but Claire stopped him.
"We don't have time for that. Let's get to the station and see if we can make contact with Jill. Chris has written about her, and I know they're friends. She might know where he is."
"Okay." Jarod agreed reluctantly. "I just hope she hasn't been and gone already. I don't know how we're going to get out of this place without help."
"Chew on these." Claire handed him two more stems, one red and one green. "Chris says the juices boost the immune system when they're ingested, and fight infection and promote healing if they're rubbed on an injury. He claims they even heal bruises."
"Right. If they're so miraculous than why aren't they being harvested and sold? Why haven’t I heard of them before?" Jarod demanded but he obediently chewed them after he saw Claire stick one in her mouth too.
He was cautious, fearing that they'd burn his mouth like they had his leg, but they had a light, refreshing flavor, something like a combination of mint and parsley.
"They only grow in Raccoon City, and they loose their effectiveness hours after harvesting." Claire informed him as they began moving down the street.
Their conversation became quieter as they studied their surroundings carefully, but they continued it in the brief moments they felt it was safe to speak. Claire led with authority, going around the inevitable roadblocks with the help of the city map she had stuffed into an inside pocket of her vest.
"Why aren't they being investigated? Anything that fantastic should be scrutinized until it's understood well enough to duplicate." Jarod continued the argument softly as they picked their way down another deserted street.
"Chris thinks that Umbrella has suppressed knowledge about them. He'd been in Raccoon City six months before the mansion incident, and he had no idea what they could do until he ran across a botanist's journal in the mansion, listing their properties. Apparently there's a third plant--same stem and leaves as these two, but with blue veins. It counteracts poison."
"Which poison?" Jarod asked.
"Any poison."
"Not possible." Jarod countered flatly. "There's no such thing as a generic counter to poison. Each anti-venom has to be carefully constructed to attack the particular venom it is neutralizing."
"Chris says it works." Claire stated simply. "Just like the green plants heal injuries. The red is a catalyst that increases the effectiveness of the blue and green plants."
"And does Chris have a theory as to why the plants are kept secret by Umbrella?"
"He thinks they're afraid to have knowledge of the plants get out because then they'd be studied by the government. He guessed that Umbrella produced them during the early stages of their bioengineering experiments."
"And, while the plants are beneficial, the virus experimentation they're doing isn't. If the government investigates the one, it might find out about the other." Jarod speculated.
"That's Chris's theory." Claire agreed. "Now, see that iron gate?"
She pointed down the street to the door-like gate spanning the entrance of a 12 foot high, concrete wall. Both of them ignored the grotesque sight of 4 of the zombies ripping the flesh from a fresh corpse. They knew by now that the creatures wouldn't notice them while they were feeding unless they drew the monster's attention by moving too close.
"Is that the entrance to the police station?"
"Yes. Think you can avoid our friends long enough to get to the gate?"
"No problem. I think we should split up, though, you on one side of the street and me on the other. That might confuse them and give us more time to reach safety." Jarod suggested.
"Sounds good. Zombies do seem to have a bit of trouble making decisions, don't they?" Claire shot him a mischievous grin and suddenly shot down the street, taking the far side and hollering at Jarod to hurry up over her shoulder.
Jarod was frankly amazed that anyone could grin under these circumstances, but he obediently raced down his side of the street. They'd underestimated their path, however, and Jarod was once again separated from a companion as Claire slipped into the back gate to the police station and Jarod climbed an unstable of cars to reach the high concrete wall circling the police grounds. Claire was just vanishing into a brick building, having evaded the zombie policemen waiting just in front of the garage, but Jarod knew he had no chance of following her, as the zombies had clustered hopefully just outside the door. He made his way along the wall, which was nearly a foot wide, safely out of reach of the most energetic zombie.
The courtyard leading to the front entrance was deserted, and Jarod jumped down and burst into the lobby of the station before any of the living dead realized he was in the vicinity. He heaved a huge sigh of relief at the sight of the still, silent room. It was enormous, made of stone and tile, and the ceiling open for all three stories of the building. It had two balconies, one traversing 3/4 of the room and giving access to two doors, one on Jarod's left, and the other on Jarod's right.
Directly in front of Jarod was a statue of a woman holding a jug that went nearly to the vaulting ceiling, and to either side of the statue were ramps. He could see just a hint of the reception area just behind the concealing statue. It was a bizarre arrangement for a public building, to say the least. Jarod didn't much care, though, it was enough to take this moment of peace and try to recoup his energy and reorganize his thoughts.
He was debating with himself whether to wait and hope that either Jill or Claire would arrive, or search the station himself, when a familiar voice cried out in anger, that only thinly masked her fear.
"Get away from me you freaks!"
The cry was accompanied by three shots and the mindless moaning of more than one zombie. Jarod glanced at his magnum, hoping that the five rounds he'd scavenged off of the last body would be enough, and dove through the door directly to his right. Parker almost shot him.
"Shit!" She hissed, turning her attention back on the cluster of zombies pressing mindlessly forward. "Don't do that!"
"Shoot." Jarod replied evenly, following his own advice and blowing away the head of the nearest zombie in a shower of half-rotted flesh and bone.
Parker wasted another moment glaring at him before following suit, and in moments the last of the undead had been transformed into the completely dead. Jarod lowered his gun, it had only one bullet left, and raised one tired brow as Parker leveled her gun on him menacingly.
“Give it a rest, Parker.” He sighed wearily. “Daddy isn’t here, and you’ve got bigger problems to worry about than taking me in.”
“What the hell is going on around here?” She demanded, only the tiniest tremble in her voice revealing her all-out terror.
“Genetic research gone bad.” Jarod clarified shortly. “And if you want to get out of here alive, you’d better be prepared to work together with me. What are you doing here anyway?” He demanded as an afterthought.
“Lyle.” She spat the word out like a bad taste in her mouth. “He set me up.”
Jarod nodded briefly, unsurprised by the revelation. Lyle had been trying to get rid of his sister since before he knew of their relationship. Of course, it did raise the question of just how much he knew about the situation, and what Umbrella and the Centre had to do with each other. Questions he’d come here to investigate in the first place.
“Well, the first order of business is ammunition.” Jarod decided briskly. “And some more practical clothing.” He added with a meaningful look up and down Parker.
As usual, she was wearing a mini-skirt, although she’d broken from her usual colors. She had a white linen jacket, cut long. It came to mid-thigh, a mere two inches above the edge of the matching white skirt. Her four-inch heels were attractive, but offered no protection from the zombies who liked playing dead and latching on to a passing ankle. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn’t help her run in the least. Jarod had a strong feeling that they’d be doing a lot of running before all of this was over.
“Well, if we’re going to find ammo anywhere, this would be the place.” Parker replied, her tone of casual competency not fooling Jarod in the least. He knew she was just as scared as he was, and he was scared spitless. Any sane person would be terrified under these conditions.
“I’m sure we’ll find some decent clothes too.” He agreed, adopting her practical attitude too. “But first, exactly how did Lyle set you up? Is he here too? And where are Sydney and Broots?”
“Back at the Centre, following a lead on the Major and the boy. Lyle co-opted their services, claiming I wouldn’t need them, just a Sweeper team.” Parker’s disgust was palpable. “He made sure I got information that you were here, investigating Umbrella for wrongdoing, and I took the bait. I thought you were masquerading as a cop, so I was hanging around here when all hell broke loose. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Investigating Umbrella for wrongdoing.” Jarod grinned boyishly at her. “Angelo tipped me off about the cover-up on the mansion incident.”
“Are you sure? Somehow I don’t think Angelo would send you to a place this deadly. I’ll bet you were set up by Lyle too.” Parker returned darkly. “I guarantee you he’s banking on both of us buying it here, clearing the way for him.”
“Good point.” Jarod acknowledged thoughtfully. “But how does he know about any of this? The cover-up has been masterful. What happened to your Sweepers?”
“Dead, as far as I can tell. John was overwhelmed in the first wave of zombies, Carl volunteered to help the police, and I haven’t seen him since, and Kent got shot by an officer after one of the zombies bit him. The man claimed that he’d turn into one of them too, and it was safer to kill him now, before the infection set in. That’s when I struck off on my own. I don’t fancy being shot by my own side.”
“I don’t blame you.” Jarod commiserated, masterfully restraining his urge to say something about zombies knowing better than to bite her because she’d probably taste bad. “I guess we’ll have to actually cooperate then.”
Parker glared, but didn’t argue with him.
“First order of business, a map of the building. Let’s check out the reception area in there.” Jarod gestured towards the door he’d burst through upon hearing Parker’s cry. “Then we’ll see what we can do to get out of this place.”
“Okay. I know a little bit about the layout, since I’ve been hanging around here for a few days, but most of it’s still a mystery to me. After the reception area, though, I think we should check out the Chief’s offices. There’s something weird about him, and I’m guessing we’ll find out something interesting there.”
“Yes, there is something very strange about this place.” Jarod mused as they made their way towards the reception area. “For instance, I’m pretty sure this statue moves---see the grooves there? And it looks like something goes in here.” He pointed to the circular depression over the strange inscription.
“And what kind of an office has the receptionist counter behind a giant statue?” Parker added grimly. “This place has “wacko” printed all over it.”
“So, what’d you do when “all hell broke loose”?” Jarod questioned, moving up the short ramp to the receptionist area. He ignored the antique typewriter and began rifling competently through the papers stacked on the desk next to it.
“Here’s a map.” Parker volunteered, waving a brightly colored brochure she’d picked up next to the computer. It was in a rack of brochures for various city attractions.
“And here’s a memo to Chief Irons.” Jarod muttered, reading the paper intently. “Apparently there’s some sort of underground research station accessible through the detention center in the basement.”
“Researching what?” Parker asked, although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“It doesn’t say here, but according to Jill Valentine, one of my informants, the T-virus for sure and possibly something they call the G-virus.”
“Why do I not like the sound of that?” Parker murmured.
“Possibly because a virus of some sort is responsible for the zombies.”
“Let’s get out of here---now.” Parker urged seriously. “Things are only going to get worse, I think.”
“Well, according to your map, the S.T.A.R.S. office is upstairs. Jill told me they’d been pretty much banned from the station after the mansion incident, so I’m guessing that our best chance to scavenge supplies is there. Now, we can try going through here---“ his finger pointed to the squad room that opened off of the lobby.
“No.” Parker contradicted him. “That’s where our trigger happy cop went. I’d rather not try to follow him.”
“Okay, then we have to go through this room---it looks like a waiting room of some sort, through these two hallways, and into the back that way.” Jarod traced the route, frowning unhappily. “I don’t like it. These halls border the outside, and if zombies have been getting in, I’ll be that’s where they’ve been doing it. We’re pretty low on ammo if we encounter trouble.”
“You’ve got a point.” She admitted reluctantly. “And it’s been a few hours since he went through those doors, so maybe he’s moved on to a better hiding place.”
“Besides,” Jarod added hopefully, “The squad room might very well have both ammunition and clothing we could use.” He glanced down at his own torn and stained clothing as he spoke.
“Fine. We’ll try it your way.”
Decision made, Parker turned on one heel and strode around the counter. The door they wanted was on the wall facing the computer, but they had to backtrack all the way around to get to it. The building had definitely not been designed with any kind of efficiency in mind.
Jarod followed, his long legs easily keeping up with Parker’s strides and allowing him to pass her up just before they reached the door.
“How many shots do you have left?” He softly asked.
She checked her gun.
“Fifteen and a spare clip.” She answered just as quietly.
“Okay, I’m going in first, you cover my back. I’ve only got one bullet left, so be ready to back me up if there’s trouble.”
“Got ya’.” She nodded.
The door was unlocked, and Jarod eased it open cautiously. But on seeing three undead officers clinging voraciously to the still resisting man inside, he flung open the door and blew open the head of the nearest zombie. Parker jumped in after him, and began firing while Jarod, his gun empty, picked up the nearest chair and broke it over the next zombie’s head.
It turned away from the injured man and advanced on Jarod, who grabbed another wooden chair and brandished it threateningly. The zombie didn’t have the intelligence left to realize the threat, and continued to move in on Jarod. This time when Jarod swung the chair, hitting the head a second time with all the force he could muster, the zombies head exploded like an overripe melon. The man they’d rushed in to help collapsed, groaning softly, moments after Parker’s careful shots took out the third zombie.
“Th-thanks.” He whispered hoarsely. “But I’m afraid it’s too late for me. I’m infected too. You should shoot me while you have the chance.”
“What about a treatment? Isn’t there an antidote?” Parker asked, hoping with all her heart the answer was “yes”.
She wasn’t overly worried about this man, but she was worried about Jarod and herself. They were wandering around in a biological “hot spot” with no way to protect themselves from infection. She wanted there to be an antidote, or a vaccine. She wanted some peace of mind.
“Maybe somewhere, but not here. We’re expendable.” The man answered painfully. “It’s all Umbrella’s fault. We should have listened to Chris and the others---now it’s too late.”
“I’m Jarod and this is Miss Parker. We came here to investigate matters and got caught up in the disaster.” Jarod told the man. “Who are you?”
“Marvin Branagh.” He managed to say. “If you get out of this, could you look up my folks and tell them what happened? They live in Chicago.”
“Of course.” Jarod assured him, watching with concern as Marvin scratched his arm, and then his chest, and then his leg. “Do you know where we might find some ammunition?”
He asked hopefully, glancing at the lockers behind the man.
“They’ve been cleaned out already.” Marvin correctly interpreted Jarod’s look. “But munitions have been stored all over the building. Go out the other door to this room—it leads to the evidence room, and then into the back hall. There’s a storeroom back there that should still be untouched.”
“Why should it be any different than here?” Parker wanted to know.
“Because I have the only key.” Marvin smiled wryly, holding out the metal object to Jarod. “There’s no guarantee that the door hasn’t been forced, but it’s your best bet. Now get out of here.” He visibly restrained himself from scratching another itch.
“We’ll be back if we find something helpful.” Parker promised.
Jarod and Marvin exchanged solemn looks. They both knew that it was too late for Marvin, but neither was willing to disillusion Parker.
“Thanks.” Jarod told the man softly.
“Be careful. The zombies are everywhere now.” Marvin cautioned them, leaning his head back and closing his eyes wearily. “Take my shotgun, it’s fully loaded.”
“We’ll get out.” Jarod promised. “And I’ll find your folks.”
Marvin’s eyes opened briefly and he smiled gratefully. Then he made a half-hearted shooing motion with his hand and Parker and Jarod headed down the length of desks in the center of the room. In the back was an office, and on the opposite wall was the promised door. Jarod motioned Parker back, verified the presence of shells in the shotgun, and cautiously eased the door open. Moans greeted them.
“Please, help us!” One man pleaded, his eyes dark and sunken on his haggard face.
“Where are the doctors?” Another whined.
“We’re working on it.” Jarod promised them, stepping carefully over their supine bodies.
“If you don’t hurry,” the first man pressed insistently, “it’ll be too late.”
‘It already is.’ Jarod thought sadly, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
Parker followed him so closely she was in danger of tripping him, but it turned out to be her advantage when one of the ill men clutched her leg as she passed, mumbling something about “hot” and “hungry”. Jarod kicked the man away with a foot to the chest and shoved Parker towards the door. For once Parker felt no need to prove her ability to take care of herself, and she practically leaped through it.
“Stay back!” Jarod warned the others, leveling the shotgun menacingly. “I don’t want to use this, but I will.”
The other men weren’t so far gone that they were willing to risk a shotgun shell to the face, and Jarod stumbled out the door after Parker. She slammed the door shut behind him, turning the key that sat in the outside lock with a decisive click. Jarod sagged weakly against the stone wall of the hallway, almost sick with relief that there were no obvious threats waiting for them. Parker pocketed the key.
“Who knows if we’ll need it later?” She asked rhetorically, as he gave her a quizzical look.
“In this crazy building, you’re right.” Jarod agreed, pushing off of the wall and making his way down the hall. “And the sooner we’re out of it, the better.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Parker said fervently, following him closely.
Jarod’s first impression of safety bore out as he and Parker made their way down the hall and then to the storeroom located down a small hall running next to the length of the stairs. Marvin’s prediction that the room would be untouched was also born out when Jarod turned the key in the door---opening it for the first time since the original occupant left.
Inside it proved to be multifunctional. Evident lockers lined one wall, a double clothing locker graced another corner, and a desk and typewriter sat squarely in the middle of the 10’ by 12’ room. Along the back wall was another door, leading to a darkroom. It was a gloomy room, obviously a converted store room with no windows and no softening touches like pictures or plants. Either no one used it on a regular basis, or whoever was assigned the office was in such deep trouble with the powers that be that they didn’t dare liven up the decor at all.
“Check those lockers.” Jarod pointed towards the man-tall metal lockers in the corner. “I’ll make sure these don’t have anything useful.” He moved towards the wall of 2’ by 2’ evidence lockers.
“What am I looking for?” Parker asked as she efficiently jimmied the inefficient locks build into the handles.
“Something more practical to wear than that suit, for starters.” Jarod told her dryly, using the hammer he found in the bottom drawer of the desk to lever open the more substantial doors to the evidence lockers.
“You could use a change yourself.” Parker informed him, holding out the outfits she found in the first locker and looking them over consideringly.
“I agree.” Jarod’s voice was distracted as he began sorting through the cache of ammunition he found in one of the bottom containers. “And we both need better foot gear---combat boots preferably.”
“Well, there are these….” Parker’s voice made her distaste so clear that Jarod looked up to see her holding up a pair of neon pink cowboy boots; obviously constructed for the female foot. He valiantly suppressed a grin.
“Do they fit you?” He asked with only the barest hint of a chuckle.
“Does it matter?” She scowled darkly.
“They will provide more protection from----“ his voice trailed off uncertainly. He didn’t know if Parker knew about the zombies who lay on the ground waiting to grab and chew on a passing person. He also didn’t know if he wanted to be the one to enlighten her if she didn’t.
“From what happened to your leg?” She guessed shrewdly.
“Yeah.” Jarod said softly, looking down at the bandage with shadowed eyes.
He’d almost forgotten about the wound. After Claire had bandaged it with her herbal poultice it had completely ceased to bother him. And in the excitement of simple survival in this place, a minor injury wasn’t enough to distract him.
“I think these might fit you.” Parker announced, holding out someone’s worn, but clean, denim jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and a leather bomber’s jacket. “But I am not wearing these.”
“These” turned out to be the outfit that went with the boots. Also pink, with blond fringe, it was a caricatured “wild west” get up. The jacket and skirt were denim, and the skirt came down to mid calf, offering Parker more protection from the nightmares outside the room, but Jarod took one look at her set face and swallowed his suggestion that she don the outfit anyway. He had a strong feeling she’d use her gun on him if he did.
“Maybe there’s a spare set of jeans in the other locker.” He suggested instead. “They’d probably be too big for you, but if you belt them tightly it would be better than nothing.”
“There are.” Parker admitted, reaching into the second locker. “And I agree, it’s better than nothing, but we’ll continue to search for something closer to my size, got it? There’s no reason why I should run around looking like a little girl playing dress up.”
“Right.” Jarod agreed diplomatically. He kept to himself the thought that the odds weren’t good that they’d find anything else to wear.
“Why don’t you change back there,” he pointed to the door of the darkroom, “while I change out here?”
Parker nodded and stalked back towards the door, discontent radiating from the stiff line of her back. Jarod stifled another grin, and chastised himself silently for taking pleasure in her discomfort. Still, she’d been making his life uncomfortable for years, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that the shoe was on the other foot, for once.
He shimmied out of his clothing down to his underwear and pulled the clean T-shirt over his head, appreciatively inhaling the scent of detergent on it that made a nice change from the dirt, sweat, and more disgusting odors and stains that had covered his own shirt. Before he pulled on the jeans, however, he carefully unwrapped the bandage Claire had improvised for his leg, his curiosity insisting that he had to check the injury’s progress.
He was stunned by the change. The angry red inflammation around the bite was gone and it appeared to him that the breaks in his skin were actually starting to close. Even for a bite from a normal human’s mouth, that level of healing would have been miraculous. Given the previous, infected, condition of the wound, Jarod could only shake his head wonderingly. It appeared that the plants were as amazing as Claire had boasted.
Jarod tore a white dress shirt he dredged out of the locker into strips, and rebandaged his leg with it before pulling on the fresh jeans. They were a little tight, but not enough to seriously impede his movement. He resolved to make a fresh poultice of herbs as soon as he ran across some more. In fact, he was resolved to take samples of the plants with him if it was at all possible.
“The belt doesn’t cinch tight enough.” Parker’s unhappy voice cut across Jarod’s musings. She walked out of the darkroom, holding a man’s leather belt in one hand and her overlarge jeans up with the other. The waist of the jeans were at least three inches wider than her own, well shaped, waist. However, they fit snugly over her hips.
“Give me the belt.” Jarod told her calmly.
Parker complied, and he carefully measured the spot where the new hole had to be made to enable Parker to cinch it tight enough to keep the borrowed pants up. Then he used a Phillips screwdriver, pilfered from the same drawer and the hammer to punch a new hole in the leather. He retied his sneakers while Parker secured her pants.
Unfortunately, the combat boots that went with the clothing he’d appropriated were, like the jeans, a little too small for him. Jeans he could get away with wearing a little too tight, and the denim would probably relax a little as he wore them, but the boots wouldn’t. Given that they were stuck on foot for this little adventure, Jarod knew the discomfort of ill-fitting footwear would seriously hamper their escape. He glanced at Parker’s feet, noting the pink boots peeking out from under the jeans, and looked up again.
“I know you hate them,” he told her, his voice and expression both carefully neutral, “but if you don’t tuck your pants legs into those boots, you’ll regret it later.”
“What are you talking about?” Parker glared at Jarod, daring him to give her a stupid reason.
Have you worn cowboy boots before? Ever?” He asked.
“No.”
“Well, they chafe your calves.” Jarod explained dryly. “Unless you’ve already worn them enough to toughen up the skin where they rub while you’re walking.”
“Jarod, if I find out later that you’re putting me on…” She threatened grimly, as she tucked the ends of her jeans into the boots.
“I wouldn’t do that now.” Jarod assured her seriously. “This is life and death---I won’t play mind games when the stakes are so high.”
“So,” an anticipatory gleam lit Parker’s eyes, “mind if I ask a few questions?”
“The promise extends to the here and now.” Jarod warned her. “Past and future events are off limits.”
“I knew it was too good to be true.” She grumbled half-heartedly.
“I found a little more ammunition.” Jarod wisely changed the subject as he shrugged into the bomber jacket she’d found for him. “And a key to the S.T.A.R.S. office.”
“That’ll come in handy.” She murmured, already reloading her Beretta, and combining bullets to make as many full clips as possible. The spare clips went into the spacious pockets of her new jeans.
Jarod reloaded the shotgun, which held seven rounds. He had no room in his pockets for shells, but he’d located a side pack in the trunk in the corner, and he packed one compartment full of the extra shells. The magnum he tucked into the waistband of his pants in the small of his back. They’d found no ammunition for it, but Jarod had been impressed with its destructive ability, and hoped that they’d find bullets for it somewhere in the building.
Parker strapped an emergency first aid kit around her waist, and picked up a nearly new backpack from the evidence lockers. Jarod nodded his approval, and selected his own, more worn backpack from the lockers. If they got lucky and found a real store of supplies, they were going to need all the space they could scrounge up to carry the necessities.
“Ready?” He asked as soon as everything had been settled.
“No.” She sighed, her expression mirroring her dread of the monstrosities waiting outside. “But we’d better go anyway.”
Jarod gave her a tight grin, full of understanding, and opened the door cautiously. Fortunately, no zombies had invaded the hallway during their brief scavenging break.
“Up the stairs now.” Jarod reminded Parker as they eased down the hallway, each covering a different side with their weapons at the ready.
They made it up the stairs safely, and down the second hallway without encountering anyone. Parker glanced disparagingly at the tasteless statues that decorated the slightly larger space at the end of hallway while Jarod tried the door just before it, discovering that someone had locked it. The other door, at the southwest end of the cul de sac, opened easily, revealing another group of zombie police chewing gruesomely on a dead, civilian woman.
Parker covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle her nausea, but kept the Beretta aimed steadily at the occupied zombies with the other. Jarod, growing almost numb to these scenes of horror, simply fired the shotgun at the group. The spray of shot blew the men away from the corpse, but it also alerted them to the presence of fresh meat. They slowly rose to their feet, and began shambling in the direction of the door. Jarod pumped four more shots into their midst before they finally stayed down, twitching endlessly as the virus that had killed them continued to send random impulses down their nerve endings.
Jarod fumbled the key into the lock, the hours on high-alert finally starting to wear on him. Parker was the one who noticed the woman move, her filmy eyes staring blindly in Jarod’s direction as she began to pull herself along the floor. Bile rose in her throat as she shot the victim she and Jarod had both assumed was dead.
“Thanks.” Jarod told her, eyeing the twitching corpse uneasily.
“Just get us inside.” Parker dismissed his words briskly, trying to hide just how unnerved she really was.
They stumbled into the thankfully empty room and slid to the floor numbly.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Jarod murmured with brutal honesty.
“Just pretend they’re Raines.” Parker replied dryly, wiping the perspiration from her forehead.
Jarod gave short bark of mirthless laughter and pulled himself back up.
“Good idea. Compared to Raines these creatures are a walk in the park.”
Oddly enough, Parker’s suggestion settled him like nothing else could have. Even though his miserable childhood couldn’t compare to the horrors they were currently dealing with, just the reminder that he had survived the Centre restored Jarod’s confidence. He hadn’t even realized how truly unnerved he was until that moment.
“Let’s see what we can find here.” He suggested, looking the room over appraisingly.
The south wall of the room was nearly covered by a complicated looking communication center, and where the controls ended a set of utility shelves, filled with cardboard storage boxes, took up the remaining space. Then came three pairs of desks, facing each other, and butting up against the east wall. The north wall had a trophy case on the west end and another metal utility shelf on the east. In between them was a wall hanging with the S.T.A.R.S. emblem and a picture of the members themselves. Just in front of the wall-hanging was a stand-alone desk made of metal, unlike the wooden desks for the other members of the team. Finally, on a small table by the door, was a fax machine.
“You want to check out the radio? Maybe we can call for help.” Parker suggested, moving towards the northernmost desk.
“I doubt it.” Jarod replied, approaching the console anyway. “I tried to drive out yesterday, and nearly got shot for my pains. I don’t think anyone is coming inside this city until the crisis has ended.”
A snort came from Parker as she rifled through the papers scattered across the desk.
“You mean until everyone here is dead and half-rotten, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if something more proactive ended up happening.” Jarod replied bleakly, moving from the useless console to the desk closest to him. “Jill said that Umbrella blew up the mansion where the first accident happened to destroy the evidence.”
“I’d say a city of more than one hundred thousand souls would be a little harder to blow up.” Parker argued, checking each drawer in the desk for ammunition. Two boxes of magnum bullets went into the other pocket to turn over to Jarod before they left the room.
“I wonder…” Jarod grumbled darkly.
He and Jill found the boots at almost the same moment. He was searching through Jill’s desk, and found her spare combat boots, in exactly the right size for Parker, and she was searching through the desk of Chris Redfield when she found his spare boots. They held up the prizes triumphantly in unison, grinning when they realized their synchronicity. It was one of the nicest moments they’d shared with each other since they were children.
“I think these will fit you.” Jarod explained unnecessarily as Parker’s smile faded slightly.
“I think these will fit you too.” She told him, her voice still friendly, even though her expression was more thoughtful than inviting. She and Jarod were both silent as they laced on their finds.
“Jarod, I---“
“Parker, don’t you---“
The both sat up straight and spoke at the same moment again. Parker subsided, flushing slightly, while Jarod narrowed his eyes in thought again, and started over.
“Parker, something about this entire situation keeps nagging at me, like it’s familiar, but I can’t think why.” He told her unhappily. “Do you remember anything like this? Ever?”
“No.” Parker replied promptly, and with a shudder of distaste. “And I certainly think I would remember something if I’d ever been exposed to anything like this. But if you think you remember something, you probably do. I’m sure it will all come back to you eventually.”
“What did you want to tell me?” Jarod shelved the problem, and focused on her abortive word.
“I just wanted to tell you…” She paused, and with the experience that years of interaction with Parker had given him, Jarod knew she was having second thoughts.
“Spit it out, Parker.” He urged her firmly, but not harshly. “For once you’re in a position where you can say anything you like and Daddy will never know.”
“I think this situation is familiar too.” She told him, “But it’s because it parallels my worst nightmares for what might happen at the Centre, not because I’ve got any prior knowledge. I can see the Centre creating a horror like this.”
Jarod’s eyes closed as a flash of memory surfaced from his mind.
“You can’t control this, Dr. Raines.” He was telling the gaunt man, his adolescent face pale and his short bangs slicked against his face with sweat. “It’s a mutenogenic of pandemic ability. As soon as I come up with an antidote, it mutates again---and it’s already crosses species boundaries once that I know of!”
“Excellent.” Raines rasped, his eyes gleaming with avarice and more than a touch of megalomania. “A bioweapon is born.”
“Dr. Raines, if this is ever released, there’s no telling what would happen. It would make Ebola look like a summer cold!” Jarod tried again, desperately. Somehow, he had to make the man understand!
“Don’t worry about what it can do, just refine the stuff for me. Then I’ll send Saunders in with your shot.”
Jarod was already trembling, feeling his body demanding the drug they’d been feeding him, but he resisted.
“I’d rather not, Sir. I know that it’s hampered my work, not helped. Half the time I’m so groggy from its effects I can’t even think straight. The other half---well, I’ve had hallucinations.” He admitted reluctantly, knowing he didn’t want Raines to see any weakness in him, but knowing even more firmly that he didn’t want another shot of that damned drug.
“You’ll receive the drug as long as I say so.” Raines had rebutted with a cruel smile. “Sydney left you in my care, and I’ll call the shots until he returns. Now get back to work.”
With that he’d turned and dragged himself out of the room, oxygen canister following behind him like a faithful dog. Young Jarod had shuddered, not just from the effects of the narcotic they were feeding him, and turned back to the lab table, his heart sinking as he realized again that he should never have trusted Sydney.
“Jarod?”
He could tell by the tone of her voice that Parker had been trying to get his attention for several minutes.
“Don’t you think we should get going now?” She repeated, her patience obviously fraying down to almost nothing.
“Yes.” Jarod agreed quickly. “Let’s get out of here.”
She gave him a look that said more clearly than words that she’d worm his flashback out of him sooner or later, but survival was clearly the priority at the moment.
“Where should we go?” She asked, instead of probing.
“I wish I thought we could make it to the hospital.” He murmured, almost to himself. “I’m sure they’ve got research going there on this thing.”
“Go outside? Have you, by any chance, noticed the armies of the undead marching around out there?” She countered, her voice edging into shrillness.
“Actually, yes, I have.” He retorted with a certain grim humor. “And I’m not eager to try my luck out there again either. But maybe we won’t have to. Take a look at that map of yours, and see if you can find the Captain’s office. Didn’t you say there was something off about him?”
“He fairly reeked “bad cop”.” Parker agreed unhappily. “And something about him didn’t seem quite sane.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Parker was clearly irritated at her lack of hard evidence. “He just seemed to be too creepy, even for this place. And, well, I’m accustomed to men looking at me, but when he did it felt like he didn’t see me, just an object, like a painting or a statue.”
Jarod almost grinned. Anyone who could look at Parker and see a statue was obviously no longer sane.
“Okay, here’s our route.” He said, instead of sharing his observation. He didn’t know how long their unspoken truce would last, and he wasn’t about to damage it by reminding Parker of just how attractive he found her.
“If we go through this door,” his finger pointed at a door on the other end of the hallway they’d entered through. The hallway simply followed the length of the S.T.A.R.S. office, and then turned to cover the length of the far wall too. At the end of that turn was the door he meant.
“If we go through here, we come out in this little waiting area. From there we can reach the library, which opens up onto the balcony we saw above the lobby. That will take us around the lobby to here---“ His finger stabbed at the only other door that opened up on the balcony, opening up to offices directly above where he’d met up with Parker.
“According to your map, that’s the Chief’s secretary’s office, and the Chief’s offices are down this hall behind her.”
“Maybe we should simply backtrack through the downstairs area we’ve already traveled.” Parker suggested nervously. “We have no idea what might be lying in wait for us along this route.”
“But we do know that there is at least one room full of infected officers, probably all ready to take a bite from us by now.” Jarod pointed out patiently. “And we don’t know where there might be stairs over there to get us up to the second floor. The map keeps that area vague, probably because it deals with places where they interrogate suspects.”
“Okay.” Parker agreed grudgingly. “I know you’re right, but before we go, I have to tell you about something.”
Jarod turned to face her, keeping his expression encouraging.
“There’s at least one monster roaming this place that I know of.” She confessed reluctantly. “I’ve heard---something roaring in the distance, and I heard some of the officers talking about something they called a Licker. It’s a manlike creature, with a long tongue that actually took someone’s head off.”
Jarod swallowed queasily, not even wanting to think of something that was so formidable it used its tongue as a weapon.
“I’m sure there are more that we don’t know of yet.”
“Well, now we know to be on the lookout for them.” He encouraged her, hoping she couldn’t see his own trepidation. “It’s just one more thing to be aware of.”
“Right.” Parker obviously made the effort to return herself to the disciplined, detached state of mind that made it possible for her to accomplish the tasks the Centre frequently sent her on. “Let’s go, then.”
They were extremely fortunate. The zombies waiting on the other side of the hall door were far enough away that Parker and Jarod could dodge them easily. The library was a haven of silence, and the balcony had the corpses of at least 4 zombie officers, indicating that someone else had passed through there. Jarod hoped that those bodies meant that Claire was somewhere in the building, and okay.
The secretary’s office was also empty of threats, but Jarod and Parker found a cache of ammunition. When they finished loading the bullets and shells into their backpacks the packs were uncomfortably heavy, but neither complained of the weight. Better sore shoulders and back muscles than eaten! The find lifted their spirits so much that they entered the hallway through the back door of the office with an almost optimistic frame of mind. It didn’t last long.
“Dear God!” Parker breathed, looking at the ugly creature drooling down at them from the ceiling.
It did look like a man---like a man who’d been skinned alive. The hands and feet were tipped with impossibly long claws, and the hips were set wrong for a human. Certainly the way it flattened itself along the ceiling would have been impossible for a normal human to have achieve. Where the eyes should have been were two, fish-belly-white swollen bumps, about the size of a man’s palm. There were dark slits in the bumps than might have opened into eyes, but it was hard to tell.
As Jarod and Parker stared at it in disbelief, it dropped from the ceiling to the floor, twisting to land right-side-up like a cat in mid-fall. They backed up slowly while it advanced on them, claws clicking ominously and a low, sibilant hiss emanating from it. When the tongue flashed out suddenly, extending to nearly a meter in length, and barely missing them, Jarod was finally able to act.
He hurriedly swung the shotgun up to his shoulder and squeezed off a shot almost before he’d gotten it up. He didn’t take the time to aim, instinct warning him that he didn’t want that creature to cover the few inches that were between them and the maximum reach of its tongue.
It took three shots to kill the beast, and Jarod pumped another shot into its head just to be sure, before they edged cautiously past it to turn the corner of the hall. Fortunately, it seemed to be the only one, and its presence had pretty much eliminated the other mutated dangers that might have been lurking otherwise.
“I assume that this is your Licker.” He told Parker dryly, hoping she didn’t notice the residual tremor in his voice.
“I think so.” Parker managed to reply, even though she was more than a little nauseated by the almost human remains of the monster.
Now that the threat of the Licker was gone, Parker and Jarod had time to notice an acrid scent in the air, the unmistakable residue of a fire. When they rounded the corner they saw that the fire had been the corridor itself. A helicopter had obviously crashed into the roof, half of it coming through it to block most of the remaining hallway. The door to the Chief’s office should have been right next to the ruined chopper, but there was a gaping hole instead.
Once again, it was clear that someone had been through this area. The hole in the wall wasn’t a result of the crash, it was obviously due to an explosion. Jarod suspected that the explosive itself was some form of plastique, which was far more easily controlled than most alternatives.
Whether it was the unknown person, the recently deceased Licker, or the burning helicopter that prevented anything from penetrating the Chief’s suite, they encountered no dangers as they made their way to the office through the maze of halls. When they reached the office, it too was empty, and the wall behind the desk had a gaping opening. This opening was obviously an intentional entrance, although it was just as obviously a concealed entrance when closed.
“Look.” Parker pointed grimly at the trail of blood that ran from the top of the desk through the opening.
“I think we have to follow it.” Jarod told her, knowing she’d rather not.
“I think you’re right.” She agreed, but without any enthusiasm.
Jarod motioned her to watch his back, and peeked cautiously down the hall revealed by the entrance. It was empty, with only an old-fashioned, metal elevator box at the end, and it had just started its downward journey. Jarod stepped into the hall, waving Parker to follow him, and hurried to look down the shaft. With any luck he’d be able to see the occupants of the elevator...
The panel that hid the entrance slid firmly back into place the moment Jarod and Parker entered the hidden hall, startling them both. Jarod couldn’t find the triggering mechanism to open it back up, and they both turned towards the newly returned elevator with an air of resignation. Since they couldn’t return the way they had come, they’d have to follow this new path. Neither one of them was really happy about the lack of choice, but, realistically, they knew that it couldn’t be any more dangerous than what they’d already overcome.
“Keep well behind me.” Jarod whispered to Parker. “I want back-up, and I want to know nothing is going to creep up behind me while I’m busy.”
“Okay.” Parker whispered back, knowing their caution was probably useless, but unable to resist the urge for quiet.
They entered the elevator together, and kept their weapons at the ready for the short ride down. The dank stone wall of the hallway that greeted them at the bottom did nothing to lift their spirits. The resemblance to a medieval dungeon was enhanced by the flickering, burning torches that lit the passageway at 6 foot intervals.
“I told you he was strange!” Parker hissed unhappily as Jarod started out ahead.
He shrugged a silent response. There wasn’t anything they could do about it now, all they could do was go on and hope for the best.
He’d only gotten a few feet ahead of her when the unmistakable sound of door opening and closing made him freeze in his tracks. The sound of approaching footsteps made him search frantically for a hiding spot in the empty corridor. They made do with a deep well of shadow, right next to a turn in the tunnel. If the returning person didn’t look behind him they’d be safe enough.
Fortune was with them. The man, thick, burly specimen, with dark, graying hair and the remains of a snappy suit covering him, made his way confidently back to the elevator, not looking to the right or the left as he went. His assurance would probably end up getting him killed, but neither of the two watching him really cared.
“That the Chief?” He asked Parker when the elevator had carried him out of sight.
“Yes.” Parker couldn’t hide her shudder. Not even Raines could make her feel as inconsequential as that man had. “Let’s find another way out before he comes back.”
“I hope there is another way out.” Jarod replied soberly.
At first it didn’t seem that his hopes would be answered. The passage ended in a room that Parker recognized as one dedicated to taxidermy. For once she was glad that Cox had oozed his way into the Centre, as she looked around at the preservative chemicals, and surgical instruments. If she hadn’t already encountered this scene in his underground room, she’d have been seriously unnerved. As it was, the presence of a very beautiful, very dead, blond woman on the table in the center of the room didn’t help her unease at all.
“A trapdoor.” Jarod had ignored the contents of the room in favor of finding a bolt hole. A hole was literally what he found.
“Please don’t tell me he was planning to stuff her for posterity.” Parker ignored Jarod and the other contents of the room to study the woman with morbid curiosity.
She hadn’t been killed by either the Licker or a zombie. Except for the clearly fatal hole in her side, she was completely unmarked. A zombie would have done far more damage, as would the Licker, which seemed to enjoy beheading its victims. Besides, if that hole wasn’t a gunshot wound, then Parker was more than willing to eat her own shoes.
She finally tore her attention away from the girl, just in time to observe Jarod levering up a two-foot-square, metal panel. It rose grudgingly, the hinges had obviously rusted, but it finally revealed another hole and a ladder which lead even further down. It was too dark to see where the ladder ended, but Parker had already decided she’d rather go down and risk the unknown than try and pass the madman who blocked the other way out.
“You go down first.” Jarod suggested, apparently thinking along the same lines as she was. “I’ll lower the trapdoor behind me as I climb down. With any luck, he’ll never know we were here.”
“Fine.” Parker agreed, willing to risk any number of mutant monsters, if it meant she didn’t have to meet the Chief of Police. She’d already concluded that he’d killed the girl, and that he was even crazier, and scarier, than even her brother.
Moments later they had both descended the ladder and found themselves on bare metal catwalk, suspended in what was obviously a system of natural caverns and tunnels. The walls were narrow and close here, but they were natural, not carved out by the hand of man. A peek through the metal grill that comprised their bridge showed that this fissure extended down a distance that would be fatal, at the very least, if they were to fall.
The walkway extended ahead of them about ten feet and then veered left for another six. There were no side paths, opening, or ladders in sight. With no other options open to them, Jarod and Parker followed the walkway to its end and halted, looking at each other in confusion.
“Why would anyone build a walkway that doesn’t go anywhere?” She questioned thoughtfully.
“It goes somewhere.” Jarod replied. “We just have to figure out where and how.”
The button wasn’t hard to find, once they looked for it. Parker pressed it decisively, and a metal ladder clattered down from above. She would never have admitted it, but she was glad they were going up again, and not down further. Something about these musty and damp walls disturbed her, and she didn’t want to know why.
“Up?” Parker asked rhetorically, knowing there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
“After me, this time.” Jarod agreed. “Who knows what’s waiting up there?”
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Parker objected, unwilling to let Jarod behave as though she were some kind of fragile flower. “I wasn’t head of Centre security for nothing, you know.”
“Parker, the monsters you’ve dealt with have all been human. Who knows what’s up there? I’ve already honed my reflexes making it on foot to the police station. I’m betting they’re a little better than yours right now. Besides, a shotgun beats a Berretta any time.”
“No argument there.” Parker surrendered gracefully. “I’ll wait—you scout, Tonto.”
Predictably, Jarod had no idea who Tonto was, but he swallowed his curiosity and climbed.
The ladder led to the waste water tunnels that crisscrossed the entire city. They were often called sewers by the uniformed, but they didn’t actually carry any raw sewage, much to Parker’s relief. She’d followed right behind Jarod, in spite of his suggestion to wait, and even with the odor of rotten garbage and mildewy walls, she was glad to be out of the cavern area.
“We have to wade through the drainage ditch.” Jarod indicated the concrete channel running alongside the concrete ledge they stood on.
“Are you sure?” Parker eyed the murky water dubiously.
“We’ve got two choices,” Jarod pointed to the vertical metal bars that blocked the water canal about twelve feet in front of them.
“We can go through the door in those bars,” Parker could barely see the outline of a barred door, “or go through the gate on the side that opens to the overflow trench on the other side.”
“Will it be dry?” She questioned, seriously unhappy at the thought of wading through the questionable stream in front of them.
“Nope. Chances are good that there’s water being diverted through there at some point, and regardless, as soon as we trigger the gate, water from this ditch will flow through with us.”
“Let’s go straight, then.” Parker sighed, grateful that she at least wasn’t wearing anything expensive.
“Good.” Jarod smiled, his features still capable of taking on that “little-boy-in-a-toy-store” expression at the drop of a hat. “I think the hospital’s that way, and I want to take a look through it before we leave this town.”
“Why?” Parker demanded, as much to take her mind off of the unpleasant sensation and smell of wading through debris clogged drain water as for curiosity.
“Even if Umbrella wasn’t conducting secret research into this virus, which I think they were, the doctor’s here must have been doing something to investigate it. I want all the data I can find to take with us.”
The door, made of the same metal bars as the grate, but set on hinges to open, resisted being opened until Jarod shook the bars vigorously. Oxidized metal showered down from the rusting bars and the hinges finally moved with an agonized squeal. Parker winced, at the noise and at the thought of what the noise might attract. She winced again when Jarod closed the entrance behind them, producing the same tortured shriek of metal.
“Why’d you bother closing it?” She demanded sourly.
“You never know what it might keep out.” He answered enigmatically. “Besides, even if no one’s following us, I’d rather not leave a trail that’s too easy to follow.”
Parker withheld a response, being too busy scrambling up onto the concrete ledge running along this section of sewer. She trudged silently along behind Jarod, cursing Lyle, Umbrella, and the universe in general for the entire mess her life had suddenly become. Her leather boots felt slimy with excess moisture, her jeans slapped wetly against her legs, and the dampness made the cool air seem positively cold.
Jarod, of course, seemed unaffected by the miserable conditions, focusing entirely on the mystery of this disease. She had forgotten Jarod mentioning the familiarity of this entire situation, but Jarod was becoming obsessed with retrieving those particular memories and sorting them out. He still couldn’t remember anything clearly, but he was sure he knew more about this virus than he remembered. Parker was relegated to the back of his mind while he sifted endlessly through the one brief flashback he’d recalled.
“It’s too dangerous.” The boy insisted stubbornly, glaring at the older man from his position huddled in on himself against the wall. He ignored the tremors shaking his frame and the cramps that already shot through his abdomen.
“I won’t do anymore work on it.” He repeated grimly, tightening his grip around his middle.
“You’ll do what I tell you, boy.” Raines rasped harshly. “No! I won’t.” Jarod contradicted with remarkable boldness. It was the first time he’d ever defied anyone since coming to the Centre. “Nothing is worth the risk this virus represents. It’s uncontrollable; nothing more than a killing device. Worse of all, it robs its victims of any sense of normalcy. All they care about is killing---killing anything and everything.”
“All the more reason to develop an antidote.”
“Don’t you understand? It’s a virus! It mutates! It’s nearly impossible to develop an antidote for any virus, and this one mutates faster than even the common cold. You want the impossible.”
Jarod bowed his head over his knees, feeling equally ill from the withdrawal symptoms and fear, but knowing that he’d let nothing sway his decision. The study of this organism had to be stopped, and the sample destroyed. He knew it was the only way to protect humanity in general.
“You’ll pay for this defiance, Jarod. Do you hear me?” Raines vowed coldly. Jarod refused to look up, letting his continued silence answer the man.
“Very well. Escort him back to the infirmary. It’s time he purged the narcotic from his system. It was a failure anyway.”
“Jarod!” Parker actually grabbed his elbow, physically shaking him from the memory. “Something is following us.” She repeated, as he gradually surfaced from the memory of pain and despair.
She gestured behind them, and Jarod listened, hearing the splashing noise that had alerted Parker. Whatever it was, it was big, and traveling quickly. The fact that it made no effort to disguise its presence argued that it was dangerous enough that it didn’t have to fear the mutations afflicting the city. In fact, it could very well be a mutation itself!
“Come on!” Jarod ordered, whirling and breaking into a brisk jog.
He had a feeling their only chance would be to find another door or a ladder before their pursuer caught up with them. The creature behind them roared, a mixture of a hiss and a squeal, but with a volume level that neither had ever heard from a normal creature. Jarod had an uneasy suspicion that it could tell that they were trying to escape it, and broke into an all out run.
“Jarod!” Parker pointed to the narrow opening to their left.
He had no idea where it might lead, but it was only large enough for one person at a time. Hoping that his suspicion that their hunter was large would prove to be correct, he waved Parker in ahead of him. Then he backed into the passage, his shotgun held ready to fire.
“There are stairs!” Parker called out a moment later.
“Get up them!” Jarod shouted urgently, catching a glimpse of their pursuer at last.
His shotgun dropped down and he edged quickly backwards as a reptilian eye, easily the size of a car tire, glared into their escape hole. Another alien bellow, loud enough to prompt Parker to clap her hands over her ears, announced its displeasure at being evaded. Jarod watched in amazement as the creature, so large that it barely fit into the drainage tunnel before him, swung it’s scaly snout to slam into the opening of the service corridor.
Concrete chunks the size of dinner plates crumbled from the walls as the gargantuan alligator pounded its face against the narrow walls in a frenzy of destruction. Jarod, more terrified than he knew he could be, wedged himself around in the corridor, and ran for the stairs.
“GO!” He shouted to Parker as she hesitated before the metal door at the head of the stairs.
The door wasn’t locked, fortunately, and the two of them spilled into the tiny room on the other side with no thought of zombies, Lickers, or any other horror but the one behind them.
“What was it?” Parker demanded, her eyes wide with fright.
“An alligator.” Jarod replied grimly, his eyes searching the room for another door.
He wasn’t about to assume that it couldn’t batter its way after them---he wanted to put as much distance between them as humanly possible.
“An alligator?” Parker gasped disbelievingly.
“An alligator the size of a city bus.” Jarod corrected, finally recognizing the room as storage area for the Parks Department. “And it’s trying to follow us.” He added, heading for the far side of the room.
On the other side of a row of lockers was another narrow corridor. Parker followed Jarod quickly as an impact tremor shook the floor. Jarod dispatched the three zombies in the next room with casual efficiency, no longer horrified by their existence. Compared to what they’d just encountered, the zombies were tame.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Parker asked, sinking tiredly into a cushioned chair behind the single desk in the room.
Jarod peeked cautiously through the blinds out the picture window over the street, trying to match the buildings he saw to the map Jill had sketched for him.
“I’m not sure.” He murmured, frowning at the two largest buildings.
Looking up, he spotted a giant clock on the top of the closest one, recognizing it finally as the “Old Clock Tower”, a building Jill had mentioned. He swung his attention to the other building, larger and brand new in comparison, and identified it as the hospital that he’d hoped to explore.
“Yes.” He told her, satisfaction coloring his voice. “We’re only five blocks to the hospital, and it looks like a clear shot from this street to the emergency entrance.”
“Jarod, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to make any side trips at this point. We need to get out of here. Besides, won’t there be even more---creatures there?” Parker objected.
“I have to, Parker.” He told her, turning the full force of his attention and pleading brown eyes on her. “I’m involved in this somehow, I can feel it. I need to find out.”
Parker’s eyes narrowed and her brows drew together in a menacing frown. This was to counteract the strange melting sensation his beseeching expression brought to her insides. She knew she was right, damn it! This city was dangerous and they needed out of it now, not later. She couldn’t believe her ears when she heard her voice answering.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes in there, then we leave.”
Was she insane, she wondered, or did she just harbor a death wish that she’d never previously noticed?
“An hour.” Jarod countered, asking, not demanding. “I’ll need at least that to check the major research areas.”
“Forty-five minutes.” Parker compromised. “And do you even know where these research areas are?”
“I should be able to figure it out. Hospitals tend to follow the same basic layouts---something like supermarkets.” Jarod accepted her compromise, his eyes fairly blazing with relief.
Parker wasn’t sure what to make of that relief. So what if he’d had a hand in the early exploration of the virus. She knew him well enough that he would never, not even when they were children, have willingly worked on something so universally lethal. One of these days he was going to have to forgive himself for the things the Centre had done with his research---he hadn’t had any control over that, after all.
But you plan to take him back to all that? Her conscience jibed uncomfortably. You have to know what it would do to him to be forced to work for the Centre again. Hell, you know what Lyle did to him the last time. Can you really hand him over?
With the ease of long practice, Parker locked that reasonable voice back into its tiny compartment in her mind and focused on the task at hand.
“What approach do you want to take?” She asked him, looking over the street. Fortunately the stairs from the sewers had left them one story above street level, so they could see most of the street from their vantage point.
“I guess we’ll have to just make a dash.” Jarod answered doubtfully. “I don’t see any real cover. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the street will be empty.”
A dog wandered slowly into view, moving with a strange stiff-legged grace.
“You don’t get lucky,” Parker informed him dryly. “You make it. Give me the magnum.”
“What?” Jarod was understandably confused by her sudden order.
“It’s more powerful than my berretta, and you have the shotgun. I want to pack some punch into my defense. Something about those dogs bothers me.”
She nodded briefly at the five red and brown dogs stalking stiffly around the streets. He understood her misgivings when he realized that the red on them wasn’t fur color, but that peculiar, raw-skin effect brought on by the virus in some victims.
“Yeah.” He agreed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that himself. “In fact, I think we should eliminate them before we expose ourselves fully.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Parker demanded curiously.
“Bait.” Jarod focused his intent eyes on her, taking on his “genius-at-work” persona as he explained. “I’m betting that the dogs will do the same as the zombies---home in on any living being in the area. One of us will have to draw them into a clear line of fire for the other.”
“Are you insane?” Parker questioned incredulously. “That’s suicide!”
“Not necessarily.”
“Yes, necessarily.” She countered flatly. “How the hell have you survived for four years without a keeper anyway?”
She pretended not to notice the faint hurt that flared in his eyes at her thoughtless words. His plan was suicidal, and she’d use any weapon in her arsenal to turn him away from it.
“Why don’t we just go above them?” She asked, eyeing the line of wrecked cars appraisingly. “It would be slower, but if we keep to the line of cars along there, we’ll be out of their reach. If they’re as stupid as the zombies, they’ll never think to jump up on the cars after us. Even if they do, we’ll have a better shot at them from above.”
“How to we get to the cars in the first place?” Jarod questioned reasonably. The cars were a good fifteen feet from the door that led out of this building to the street.
“In relays.” Parker replied promptly, her security training popping the solution up in her mind without effort. “I’ll go first, and you lay down a covering fire if any of them notice me. Then, when I’m up on the roof of the first car, I’ll cover you while you make a break for it.”
“I really don’t like this plan.” Jarod objected, quite mildly, considering that he had visions of Parker’s savaged body dancing past his mind’s eye.
“You got a better one?” She challenged, utterly unaware of his concern.
“No.” He glowered, as if his failure to come up with a superior idea was all her fault, but offered no further complaint as she led the way down the flight of stairs on the far wall of the room.
In the end, they didn’t have to use the cars as a pathway to the hospital. Jarod, more frightened than he’d been in his life, managed to take out four of the dogs while Parker dashed for the first car. He didn’t even wait for them to start for her, he just aimed and fired as she started her run. She picked off the other dog, and two more that were lying just out of sight around a slight bend, from her vantage point on the roof of the car.
“All clear.” She grinned triumphantly as she jumped lightly down to the street beside him.
“Don’t ever do that to me again.” Jarod told her, still shaking with nerves.
“I didn’t know you cared that much.” Parker’s attempt at levity fell somewhat short as the memory of past hurts leaked into her voice.
“I do.” Jarod told her simply, unwilling to allow the pretense of disinterest to continue between them. “I always have. I just didn’t know if you could care back, and I was afraid to find out.”
Confronted with his naked honesty Parker felt the axis of her world tilt with the impact of emotion. Feelings she’d tried so hard to bury resurrected in moments, but she still didn’t know what to do with them.
“I---“ she looked away uncertainly, trying to think of what to say. “I care, Jarod. But I don’t see any future in it. The Centre will win eventually. It always does.”
The bleakness in her eyes told him more about her state of mind than even she knew.
“No, it doesn’t.” Jarod replied quietly. “And it won’t. It’ll never have me again, if I have to kill myself first, and it doesn’t really have you---not if you don’t let them.”
“I don’t know.” She whispered, torn between hope and bare survival.
“Now isn’t the time to make any decisions anyway.” Jarod smiled crookedly, trying to ease some of the turmoil in her heart. “Let’s worry about this after we’re clear of the city.”
“Yeah.” Parker agreed quietly, but her face was contemplative.
Jarod knew that this particular situation, which offered only fates that were clearly worse than death, had finally opened up the shadow of a doubt in her mind. All he could do now was hope. Hope that they escaped this place and lived to really examine the possibilities. Hope that Parker wouldn’t revert to form as soon as the danger passed. And hope for nameless things that he’d never even allowed himself to identify before, for fear that they too would be snatched from him.
Their musings kept them both silent as they mechanically fought their way through the hospital to the basement laboratory Jarod had known intuitively was there.
“What the hell are these things?” Parker stared at the creatures in the floor to ceiling glass cylinders with the same kind of horrified fascination that bystanders have for the scene of an appalling accident.
“The paperwork calls them “Betas”. Apparently the red, skinned-gorilla creatures we fought through to get here were “Alphas”.” Jarod answered absently, his attention fixed solely on the papers.
Parker’s 45 minutes had become an hour, and now nearly two hours. Jarod had led them directly to this basement lab, almost as if he’d known exactly where it was. And in a way he had. All of the weird hidden keys and doors and labyrinthine corridors they’d made their way through so far had given him an instinctive understanding of the paranoid attitude that pervaded Umbrella. He’d known the research would be hidden or sealed away down below the every-day, normal activities of the hospital.
In fact, they hadn’t been hidden, just protected by an elevator requiring a recognized voice to operate it and then the pair of “Hunter Alphas” in the corridor leading to the two rooms they were in now. The Alphas were formidable, their mouths and jaws wider than an ordinary simian and their teeth pointed. Added to that weaponry were ridiculously long claw tips on the ends of their fingers. The creatures would never have survived in the wild, they were too poorly put together, but they made excellent guards with their unthinking violence.
Parker now bore a poultice of herbs on her upper left arm, thanks to the death throes of one of the creatures as she passed by. It had spasmed just as she was edging past it in the narrow corridor. The brutal claws were just as sharp after death as they had been in the misshapen creature’s life, and it scored two long gashes on her arm and a third shallower cut. Jarod, afraid that the creatures had venom in addition to their other modifications, had insisted on dressing it immediately with a dressing comprising all three of the miracle herbs he’d assembled.
Like him, Parker had been startled by the burning sensation, but it quickly passed. Now she hardly seemed to notice the injury, but then, the Betas were pretty interesting, in a morbid way. Where the Alphas were obviously of simian stock, the Betas appeared to be, of all things, mutated frogs. They were the same general size and bulk as the Alphas, slightly larger than most men, and they were also bipedal, with long claws tipping their “hands”. But they were green in coloration, with mouths wide enough to engulf a man to his waist and small round eyes set to the sides of the broad face.
One of the creatures she was watching opened and closed its mouth slowly, much like a fish forcing water through its gills, and startling Parker. She’d assumed they were dead and suspended in formaldehyde or something.
“Jarod!” She called, as it flexed it’s clawed hands. “They’re alive!”
Jarod looked up, his hands already shuffling the papers together into a neat pile. It immediately became clear to him that the creatures were becoming agitated. One backhanded the glass tube containing it, but the water it was surrounded with muted the blow.
“Let’s go.” He suggested, not willing to take the chance that the glass would hold. “I’ve got what I need here.”
“Right.” Parker moved quickly to join Jarod at the airlock-type door leading to the outer room. Both creatures were now thrashing around in the fluid, although they’d done no discernable damage to their containers. Still, Parker breathed a sigh of relief when the door sealed behind them with a sibilant hiss.
“We’re leaving now, right?” She didn’t ask so much as demand.
“No.” He winced inwardly in anticipation of her response and hurried on to explain. “There’s an antidote on the fourth floor, if these papers are correct.”
“Like a vaccine?” She demanded, already weighing the potential benefit against the risks.
“Not quite. It needs to be refined, tested more, and put into an appropriate base, but there’s a good chance that it will at least confer some immunity, even if it doesn’t cure someone outright. If nothing else, it’s a good start.”
“Damn it, Jarod, this isn’t your problem to fix!”
“Yes it is.” He answered bleakly. “I remember now. I remember doing simulations on creating viruses to recode the genetic structure, although I was told it was to be used to cure disease and birth defects. I also remember working on a “tyrant” virus---a virus that mutated itself and mutated its victim, with terrifying speed. I refined it, trying to alter it into something beneficial. This is all based on my work.”
“Then why do you need their work on the antidote? Can’t you just come up with your own?”
“No. The virus has been altered too much. It would take me months of research just to get close. I’ve got to get a sample of this antidote to work from. I’ve already gotten samples of the strain of T-virus they were working on.”
“I don’t have to tell you how little I like the idea of us running around with samples of that stuff, do I?” Parker mentioned, hiding her trepidation behind her usual sarcastic front.
“Don’t worry.” He smiled faintly. “I’m making us inoculations before we leave the hospital. We’ve just been lucky not to have gotten infected yet.”
“Gee, thanks, I feel much better now.” Somehow she’d assumed that the virus had lost its potency without new victims. Learning that it just hadn’t managed to get them yet didn’t reassure Parker in the least.
“Fourth floor.” He told Parker briskly, slinging his backpack into place after having carefully stowed the paperwork in an outer pocket. He picked up his shotgun and walked towards the door, knowing Parker would follow eventually.
She sighed in exasperation, but indulged him. The news that they could still turn in to one of those monsters unnerved her enough that she was willing to give Jarod the benefit of the doubt in his obsession over finding a cure.
“Besides, I have an idea for getting out of the city without fighting any more monsters.” He gave her a winning grin over his shoulder.
“What?” She demanded suspiciously.
“You’ll see.” His grin deepened. He still delighted in tormenting her from time to time.
She swallowed another exasperated sigh, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and used the tape recorded doctor’s notes they’d found to activate the elevator. It was odd that the elevator only offered three choices to them, but Jarod had postulated that those choices were based on the doctor’s clearance. This guy had obviously been neck deep in the research aspect of this disease, and Parker felt a certain amount of angry satisfaction to think that he’d either gotten the virus, or, more likely, been killed at the hands of one of viruses creations.
She and Jarod were each lost in thought as the elevator rose in its preprogrammed route. They didn’t pay attention, at first, when the doors opened on the Doctors’ Lounge, as they’d boarded the elevator from that room, and knew it was clean of monsters. Normal humans, on the other hand, they did not expect.
“Hey! Who the hell are you?”
Parker and Jarod swung their weapons to the ready without thought, and the strange young man had them already covered. This tableau held for several long moments before Jarod relaxed slightly and lowered the barrel of his shotgun a fraction.
“You’re with Umbrella, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice deceptively mild.
He recognized the green jacket the man wore, and caught a glimpse of the red and white umbrella embalm on the back of it, which made him immediately suspicious of the individual. He looked like a nice enough guy, with brown hair a shade lighter than Jarod’s and similarly brown eyes, but Jarod wasn’t going to trust him until he knew for sure that the man was an innocent dupe to Umbrella, not a co-conspirator.
“Yeah. We were sent in to rescue civilians, but you two are the first I’ve seen that were rescue-able. As far as I know, I’m the last of us left alive, though, so I don’t know how much help I’d be at this point.” The boy’s eyes were just as wary as Jarod and Parker’s, and his weapon remained ready.
“So what are you doing at the hospital?” Jarod probed. “Surely you know that anyone here would probably be in the last stages of the infection by now.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” The boy’s Hispanic accent grew stronger as he struggled with himself over some internal issue. “I’m looking for something to fight the virus. My companion just got infected, and I’ve got to help her out. She’s saved my bacon a time or two and now it’s payback time.”
“Didn’t you just say you’re the last one left?” Parker pounced on the inconsistency.
“She’s not an Umbrella Merc. like me, she’s a cop---sort of.”
“Jill?” Jarod asked instantly, not really believing it could be the woman who’d clued him into this conflict, but hoping nonetheless. “Jill Valentine?”
“How’d you know that?” The boy’s gun moved to train on Jarod’s forehead.
“Jill and I met earlier.” Jarod answered, relieved beyond measure that she had survived this far, and concerned that she was now infected. “She clued me in to a lot of what’s been happening. Probably saved my life. Maybe she mentioned me? I’m Jarod.”
“Nope, she didn’t.” But the gun finally came down as the young man decided to trust them, at least a little. “But if she helped you, maybe now you can help her. She’s really sick. That Nemesis thing managed to infect her somehow.”
“Nemesis thing?” Parker didn’t like the sound of that.
“Big guy.” The mercenary said shortly. “Can’t miss him, every time you kill him he comes back stronger than ever, and he’s been gunning for Jill from the start.”
“Why?” That was from Jarod.
“I don’t know. All he ever says is, S.T.A.R.S….”
“Sounds like he’s after Jill then.” Jarod agreed grimly. “She’s probably the last S.T.A.R.S. member left alive in the city.”
“Look, it’s been fun, but I gotta find her an antidote quick.” He replied briskly, tapping his gun impatiently against his leg. “So, if you got any ideas, now would be a good time to share them.”
“I think there’s something on the fourth floor.” Jarod told the young man, willing now to trust him. “I’ve been going through the paperwork left by the doctors, looking for a cure myself.”
“You one of them?” Jarod was pretty sure that the man meant one of the researchers that created the virus, as opposed to one of the doctors.
“No. I didn’t create this virus.” He answered, telling his remaining guilt to shut up and stay put when it stirred in his belly. “But I know enough microbiology to decipher the notes they left behind.”
“Good enough.” The boy was trusting, Jarod thought with amusement. “Let’s get going then. I’m Carlos, by the way, and you are?”
Jarod turned his face towards the elevator wall as Carlos turned the full force of what he obviously considered to be irresistible Latin charm on Parker.
“Not your type.” She answered quellingly. “But you can call me Miss Parker, if you need anything.”
“Brrrr.” Carlos shivered with mock fear. “Sorry, your Highness, just being friendly.”
“Miss Parker never got the chance to learn how to be friendly.” Jarod teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “She’s been too busy being efficient, intimidating, and bossy.”
“And don’t you forget it, Ratboy.” She replied serenely, recognizing his intention to lighten the atmosphere.
Carlos, watching their interaction, leaped to the obvious conclusion that they had a “Thing” going and soothed his manly ego with the thought that she’d have gone for him if she hadn’t already had a man. Probably she was just hiding her attraction to him to protect this Jarod guy’s feelings. Besides, he hated “bossy” in a woman.
“You really think there’s something to help Jill up here?” He asked Jarod as the elevator rose.
“I think so, but I might be wrong.” Jarod answered cautiously. “The notes I found in the basement indicated the serum was stored up here, but someone might have removed it when the disaster started.”
The door opened, and all three occupants heard and recognized the familiar click-click-click sound of a slowly approaching Hunter. Carlos sighed in exasperation, Jarod’s jaw clenched, and Parker rolled her eyes.
“Let me.” She ordered, moving into the hallway and placing her back against the wall to the right of the elevator.
Fortunately, the elevator was at the end of the hallway, and not in the middle where they’d be vulnerable from two sides. She raised the magnum, which they’d found to be slightly more effective than the shotgun, and sighted on the corner where the Hunter would have to approach. It was just too bad that the Hunter decided to make one of their extraordinary leaps, which had the effect of making it materialize at the end of the hallway, rather than simply appear.
Parker lost a few valuable seconds adjusting her aim, while the Hunter sprinted towards her. It was amazingly fast for something with short, bowed legs, but Parker was an expert marksman. The bullet flew from her gun to the creature’s tiny brain as if it had homing device implanted, and the Hunter screamed horribly, arching its back in agony as it died. She shuddered in response, some atavistic part of her mind insisting that this sound portended danger, not the end of danger.
As soon as the echoes died down, all three humans listened intently for the sound of another Hunter, but it was blessedly quiet. Parker announced the “all-clear” and the trio moved out of the elevator and down the hall. This hallway was wider than the one in the basement, and they all edged past the twitching corpse without mishap.
The hallway turned north and then veered back to the west, with a hall bearing south opening up about halfway down. They turned down that hall, deferring further exploration in the hope that their prize would be in one of the two rooms they could see down there. Jarod tried the first door, and found it locked. He and Carlos moved down to try the second door, but Parker rooted around in her jean pockets and knelt before the locked door.
The two men entered the second room as Parker began the delicate process of picking the lock, using a lock pick set she’d picked up from the S.T.A.R.S. room back at the police station. She succeeded after two abortive tries, just as the men walked back out in the hall.
“We found a wall safe, but it’s locked.” Carlos informed her glumly.
“I could crack it, if I had the right equipment.” Jarod grumbled.
“Well, I’ve opened this door, let’s see what’s inside it.”
Parker stood, refolding the tools she’d used into their slender black cloth carrying case and stashing them back in her jeans. Then she opened the door and stepped boldly through.
Bodies. The room was full of bodies. Two were medical personnel, on either side of the door, and another three were obviously victims of the virus. They were quiescent, but Parker didn’t trust that they were actually dead. She stopped just inside the door, and gestured at Carlos and Jarod to wait where they were. Her eyes swept the room again, looking for anything helpful.
Nothing looked especially useful, and she was about to leave, when she decided to look over the medics a little more closely. The one closest to her, was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. Parker crouched down and carefully pulled it from his stiff fingers.
At her movement, the civilian body closest to her came to life, so to speak, and began to drag himself towards her. Parker briefly considered killing him, but decided to save her ammo. She stepped quickly over the doorjamb, pulling the door shut behind her. They had yet to have encountered a zombie that could open doors, so that pretty well solved that problem.
“What’d you find?” Carlos eyed the paper eagerly, obviously concerned about the amount of time he’d been away from his friend Jill.
“Numbers.” Parker answered slowly, checking out the bloodstained paper with a lowering sensation of disappointment. “Three Five One.”
“Do you think---?” Carlos threw a hopeful look at Jarod who shrugged slightly.
“That could be the combination.” He agreed, heading back for the other door. “It seems too simple, but it could work.”
To Jarod’s amazement, it did work. The safe opened with a gust of cold air revealing rows of test tubes in two holding racks. Jarod intercepted Carlos’ Questing hand and pulled it down, gesturing the other two to move back slightly.
“Let me do this, who knows if they’ve got another trap set up.”
Parker nodded at Carlos to do as Jarod said, and backed up a few steps herself. She watched with veiled concern and Jarod cautiously lifted the first of the racks into his hand. Nothing happened.
Jarod carried the tubes over to the wide window ledge and returned to pick up the second rack, closing the safe door on his way back. He then studied the labels on the tubes for several long minutes.
“Parker, see if you can find some syringes and needles in the cabinets over there.” Jarod ordered over his shoulder as he carefully selected several vials. “And some of those rubbing alcohol wipes.”
“You found it?” Carlos demanded with youthful excitement.
“I think so.” Jarod smiled reassuringly. “First I’m going to vaccinate the three of us against the T-virus. It should make us immune, but one never knows, so don’t take stupid chances, okay?”
Carlos nodded, presenting his left shoulder without objection as Jarod filled three syringes with a blue colored fluid. Parker winced slightly when Jarod jabbed the needle into her biceps and he did the same when Parker gleefully reciprocated the shot.
“Okay, this’ll be a lot like a tetanus shot, no, more like a typhoid shot.” He corrected himself. “You’re going to have a sore arm in a couple of hours, and the area around the shot will probably swell somewhat and be hot to the touch. You may even develop a fever and general body aches, like a case of the flu. That’s because this injection is actually dead t-virus cells, which will stimulate our immune system to produce antibodies. Your body will think you’ve been infected, even though you aren’t, and react accordingly until it eradicates all trace of the foreign cells.”
“What about Jill? Isn’t her body already producing antibodies?” Carlos question worriedly.
“Probably, but it won’t be enough. She’s going to require more in-depth treatment. Do you have any medical training at all?” Jarod hoped so, because he didn’t have time to go with Carlos to treat Jill. He sensed time was running out for him and Parker. He felt an urgent need to be moving, and moving quickly.
“Yeah, I got the basics. It was part of our training.”
“Can you start an I.V.?” Jarod questioned.
“Sure. I was pretty good at that, unlike most of my fellow trainees.” Carlos’ smile held a tinge of disdain for his “weaker” companions. “Most of them got queasy when they had to poke someone.”
“Right, then here’s what I want you to do:” Jarod ignored Carlos’ boasting and kept to the subject. “You’re going to have to start a saline I.V. for her, I’m sure you can find a pack of them somewhere around this place, and set the flow to three drops a minute, can you do that?”
Carlos nodded, his features seeming suddenly more mature as he dedicated Jarod’s instructions to memory.
“Good. Once you’ve got that set up, I want you to inject the bag with this vial, and mix the solution as best you can. Make sure Jill get the entire bag, and then repeat the procedure. Then, after she’s gotten both bags, inject her with 5 ccs of this.” He held up a vial with a blood red fluid.
“And then she’ll be okay?” His eyes were suddenly young again and pleading for reassurance.
“She should be. This combination seems to attack the molecular cohesion of the virus. But you should also vaccinate her with 5 ccs of this blue stuff in about a week. Especially if she plans to keep messing with Umbrella.”
“Yeah.” Carlos agreed, not seeming in the slightest bit upset that Jill might be trying to destroy the company that employed him.
Jarod was relieved at his attitude, hoping that the young man had realized what scum his bosses were, but afraid that he still felt loyalty to them. But Carlos had evidently seen enough to know who his friends and enemies really were.
“Okay. Parker and I should be out of the city soon.” Jarod went on. “I’d try to take you and Jill with us, but I doubt she’ll be ready to move until morning at the earliest, and we just can’t wait that long. We’ll send back help if we can, though.”
“I understand.”
Jarod could see he did understand. Perhaps being a mercenary had opened him up to the realities of war. There was no condemnation in his eyes at Jarod’s choice to leave while he could.
Jarod nodded once, and shook Carlos’ hand before turning to carefully pack the samples into a Coleman cooler he’d stolen from the basement. He’d known, the moment he saw it, that the samples would undoubtedly need to be kept cool, and carried the prize along in hopes he could use it. Behind him, Parker and Carlos nodded goodbye to each other, Parker carefully projecting an attitude of “don’t-touch-me” to Carlos. She suspected he’d have willingly used their leave taking as an excuse to attempt some intimacy, and she wasn’t willing to be pawed by the young pup.
“So, what’s your big escape plan?” She asked Jarod as the door swung shut behind Carlos.
“This is a hospital.” Jarod told her, his expression encouraging her to guess.
“Yes, so?”
“So, there’s probably a helicopter port on the roof. Jill said that the hospital was brand new, and the newer hospitals tend to have them.”
“You’re hoping there’s still a chopper there?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jarod clicked shut the Coleman cooler and headed for the door. “I’m betting on it.”
“Okay, Einstein, how do you expect us to get to the roof? The elevator’s locked, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Stairs.” Jarod answered smugly.
“Right. And those would be hiding, where?”
Now that she considered it, Parker wondered where the hell the stairs were hiding. It was totally against all U.S. fire codes for a building this tall not to have stairs or fire escapes, and none of the newer buildings used fire escapes any more. The metal was too expensive and too vulnerable to the elements. She looked at Jarod, who continued to grin like the cat who’d gotten into the cream.
“Where?” She repeated, with just a hint of threat in her voice.
“Behind the secret panel by the elevators.” He answered, moving a picture on the wall in front of the elevator doors and pressing the indented square behind it.
The wall slid silently back, opening up an entrance just wide enough for a single person to pass through. It was doubtful that anything had penetrated this secret route, but Parker and Jarod kept their guard up anyway. They increased their vigilance when they passed a human body stuck into a corner with pounds of sticky spider silk. Neither of the two felt the slightest regret when they reached the roof of the hospital without ever glimpsing the web spinner. Jarod was so relieved he didn’t even tell Parker “I told you so” when they spotted the heliport, complete with three small hangars for choppers.
They took the first one they found. It was fully fueled and in perfect working order. Jarod sped through the pre-flight checklist, although he was still thorough, and then he lifted the chopper off the ground under its own power and inched it through the open doors of the hangar.
It was a risky move, requiring expert ability and superior reflexes, but Jarod made it look easy. Parker caught him looking down in regret as he accelerated toward the west of town, and knew he was thinking of Jill and Carlos.
“We’ll come back for them.” She reminded him gently, wishing somehow she could get him to be a little easier on himself.
“I hope so.” He replied with muted concern. “But these samples are more important than their lives.”
Parker’s eyes widened at that, but after a moment of reflection, she realized he was right, as usual. Umbrella had already had two outbreaks of this virus, there was no telling what they’d do next. Analyzing the virus, and the antidote that they’d come up with, was imperative.
“Where are you taking us?” Parker asked him, hoping to turn his thoughts towards the future.
He couldn’t do anything for Jill right now, so he’d do better to focus on something more positive. Sometimes she still wondered just how he’d managed for so long without a keeper.
“I’ve got a friend who can get me access to the kind of equipment I need to work with this stuff.” He answered somewhat evasively. “He might even be able to send someone after Jill and Carlos.”
Parker accepted his secretive manner, accustomed to it after a lifetime at the Centre, and set herself instead to deciding her next move. Would she take this chance to throw the Centre over? Could she just walk away? Or would she take Jarod in and finally see the light of pride in her father’s eyes?
“They think you’re dead by now.” Jarod mentioned casually, irritating her with his everlasting omniscience.
“I know.” She replied shortly.
“You could be free.” He pressed. “We could both be free.”
“What about Angelo and Ethan and my brother? What about your family and everything the Centre stands for?” She demanded irritably. “Are you just going to walk away from all that?”
“No. But I can dig more circumspectly, and with your help I can accomplish so much more.” It was almost a plea, for all that Jarod kept his voice carefully neutral.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Parker, too, kept her voice neutral, not about to risk rejection from him.
He hazarded a quick glance her way, dangerous at the low altitude he’d kept the helicopter to. He was trying to avoid radar detection, but they ran a real risk of impacting on a tall tree or even a mountain peak. To make matters worse, twilight was falling quickly and it would soon be fully dark. Somehow that seemed symbolic to Jarod. Flying too close to the ground, trying to avoid collisions in the dark.
“Yes.” He answered simply, frightened by his own daring, but desperate to end the parry and thrust of mock battle between them. “Yes, I do. I miss you, Miss P., and I’m tired of being all alone, and I think you are too, for all that you’ve got your family there at the Centre.”
Her quick intake of breath told him he’d struck a nerve, but he didn’t dare look over now to see if it was for the better or worse.
“What about Sydney and Broots?” Her voice sounded strangled.
“We’ll work it out, somehow.” He promised her, hoping that her objection did preclude an outright rejection.
“Sydney will be devastated if he thinks you’re dead.” She protested.
“I know.” His regret was clear, but his resolve remained firm.
“What would we do?”
He breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
“We’ll develop an antidote to this virus first. Then we’ll take out the Centre. After that, I think Umbrella might need our attention. After that, who knows?” He told her, keeping his elation firmly suppressed.
“First, we get Angelo, and Sydney, and Broots, and my baby brother away from the Centre and someplace safe.” Parker countered. “Or maybe I’ll handle that while you analyze your samples.”
“No. We’ll do it together.” He declared firmly. “From now on, we do it together---right?”
His assurance faltered suddenly, and he chanced another glance to her side of the cockpit. She was smiling at him, the smile full of irony that was belied by the tears in her eyes.
“All right. We’ll figure it out together.” She told him, her low voice husky with emotion that she still found difficult to express. “God knows, you’ve needed a keeper for years.”
“Hey, watch that!” Jarod protested, deliberately lighting the mood for her. “I’m a genius, remember.”
“Yeah, so?” She parried. “You’re a genius who stumbles from near disaster to near disaster. What have you done without me all these years?”
“I missed you.” Jarod told her again, seriously and with all the longing in his heart. “Even when I hated you, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She admitted so quietly that Jarod had to strain to hear the soft words. “I missed you when Daddy sent me away to boarding school. I missed you when I came back to head Centre Security. And I missed you most of all when you ran away. I haven’t been hunting you all these years for Daddy’s sake, I’ve done it for my own---I just couldn’t admit it.”
Jarod grinned in the darkness, throttling back the helicopter to give it lift to soar as high as his suddenly light heart. As soon as they passed over the Arklay Mountains they’d be able to radio his friend. And then they could start a whole new life---a new partnership.
The End?
