Chapter Text
Shoes padding loudly across the messy and damp floors, I slid past the first door on the right and ducked into the one following. Hiding behind the slightly-ajar door, I scraped it closed and panted as quietly as my strained lungs would allow, then leaned heavily back against the crumbling wall.
Sliding the door shut with a barely-audible creak of rusted metal, I closed my eyes and covered my mouth, trying to silence my existence down to near-nothing.
The filthy sleeve of my old TerraSave jacket stuck to my face, cool and uncomfortably smooth with grime— but, at least, it provided a thick barrier between the mostly-empty room and my hasty breath. I’d been a track runner in high school, and it’d been a number of years since then, but I supposed I had my old coach to thank, because I’d lost my pursuers fairly easily. Now I just had to give ‘em the slip for good…
Please, I thought as my lungs stuttered in my chest, trying to collect the oxygen they so desperately needed for my heart to continue it’s thunderous pounding. Hell, even if they didn’t hear my heavy breath, it was still half-possible they’d hear my frantic heart trying to escape my ribcage.
Calm down…
Standing there in the dark, I thought, maybe, I’d start crying again— and actually didn’t completely reject the notion. I always felt better after a good cry, even if my actual circumstances didn’t improve. Besides, if I was crying out my grief, that meant I wasn’t frozen and gripped with absolute terror.
That meant a better chance to stave off the mutation a bit longer. Though, in the past months, I’d begun to think — perhaps foolishly — that I might’ve been safe from the virus.
I’d been scared in the past six and a half months…terrified, even. I was pretty sure I’d almost pissed myself once, encountering a gray, living mass of limbs while crawling through a vent in the disgusting coal mines that doubled as research labs. I’d been stuck in a pitch dark hospital storage room before, with two confused Ironheads and Pedro trying to shove his ass through a little hole in the floor. Oh, and I’d been on my period at the time— with no sanitary products.
It didn’t get much worse than that. Through it all, the bracelet hadn’t once indicated any change in my condition.
It remained red. Which necessarily, wasn’t the most viable outcome either, since, from the old notes I’d found along with Claire and Moira earlier in the year, nobody was supposed to get past the first flashes of red without mutating. Maybe stupid of me to think, but if I hadn’t already triggered the virus through the sheer terror of my time spent here, I had begun to sincerely doubt it would happen now.
In the grand scheme of things, that’s all I really had to worry about. All I had to look forward to, with any luck…not mutating.
“AAUUUGGHHH!!!!” The pursuers cried from outside the room. Months ago, I might’ve found those throaty, high-pitched cries funny. Well, screw myself kindly all those months ago. Those were the sounds of poor, Russian villagers who were once human and now served only to kill and turn the humans who still lived. Those cries were freakin’ terrifying.
Swallowing, I pushed my sleeve harder against my mouth, bunching it up and wrinkling my nose at the smell. Just on the other side of the door, I heard footsteps rush clumsily past, toward the stairs on the far side of the block.
I was hidden in the second right room of the main cell block. By my luck, just behind a door that had been of a sliding design just like the rest, but had been welded back onto the track one too many times. It now pushed in as much as it slid open, and there was hardly anything for me to grip from the inside.
Also just my luck, that I’d lost my old, antique bowgun somewhere near the bridge the day prior. It was unreliable at the best of times, but it was also what caught dinner most nights, and provided at least a measure of protection against—
“Roaaah!!!”
“Oh, hell!” I mouthed, snapping my teeth together as I hunkered down, near to the door. Fuck. Fucking hell. That scratchy wail just outside could only mean one thing; an Ironhead had wandered out from further into the building.
As silently as I could, I braced my foot along the rusted door and the floor. If they found me, by some stroke of fate, my foot wouldn’t do much to stop that door from sliding back open— my shoes were pretty flat, I hadn’t exactly dressed for combat all those months ago, but...maybe it would give me a moment to gather myself before I died.
I’d been in worse situations before, so that was maybe getting ahead of myself, but...what else was likely to happen if those freaks decided to check the door I hid behind?
Once the bastards figured out the sliding mechanic as well in their frothing rage, the best I could do would be to stand with my back to the metal and hope my meager weight was enough to keep the door standing. That, and hope they were dumb enough to not just slide or pull the door open. There were no handles on the inside for me to use. Prisoners wouldn’t have needed them.
I closed my eyes again, praying that they would all just continue on down the hall and out of the cell block. It was nearly dawn, and they couldn’t see very well, but neither could I; except for a dim, dim, purple light filtering in from the bars above the door. I just had to hold out until it was light again.
Maybe then, I could get my bowgun back...though considering the way I lost it, that seemed very unlikely indeed. Jesus, I also needed to reach my quiver...it was all the way in the security room...shit, shit. How did that happen? How could I have let myself end up so bad off?
Legs shaking, I tried forcing my heart to calm down, my breathing to slow. I’d been through worse. All this, this simple waiting, it was nothing. Okay. Take it easy, now…remember your breathing I told myself. Just breathe. Breathe and count…
One...two...
Abruptly, a great shockwave of something shook the foundations of the room I stood in, and I gasped in spite of myself, tumbling forward onto the dirty, blood-stained floor. In my fall, I’d knocked over an old tin can from a rotten bedframe and watched in horror as it clattered obnoxiously to the concrete floor, along with several chunks of the ceiling.
No.
“Oh, god.” I choked, balking as the door slammed in its iron slot to reveal a hideous mess of a face in the glassless window─ one of the afflicted. He wasn’t alone, either; there seemed to be at least two more besides the one in front, not including the Ironhead you’d heard earlier. “Oh, fuck!”
Practically acting before having the chance to think, I slid forward on my rear and kicked the ugly thing right in the groin as he pulled the door open by the handle on the outside. The afflicted faltered for a moment and I leapt forward as it stumbled back, taking the old door by the bars of the window, slamming it back into place and bracing myself against the rough metal. I yelped helplessly as I felt my heart pound in terror, felt sick with adrenaline and a miserable acceptance.
Another tremor shook the floor, as the afflicted continued to pound away at the door, hitting at my fingers, kicking and clawing as I struggled to keep it closed...bad idea. I was only prolonging the inevitable.
I was going to die.
I was going to die...and it wasn’t even my fault! What were those noises that had shaken the whole building? Was it an earthquake? It felt like a freakin’ missile had just hit the driveway outside.
“AAuughhh!” My killers howled from outside and I braced my numb feet against the filthy grain of the cement, certain I was going to slide and buckle any moment now.
Jesus...I hoped Claire and Moira were still alive. That old man too. I didn’t know why I was suddenly having those thoughts now, I hadn’t seen any of them in months, but still.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I’d heard the sound of a helicopter earlier that day. It was a stretch, and one I didn’t truly believe...but could there be other people on the island now? Maybe someone who could rescue them. Me. That was something good to think about...I’d rather the last thought of my heart be wishing that someone could make it.
I felt tears well up despite my best efforts. In spite of my earlier thoughts, now was not the time to cry...in fact, my time was well up, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry, mom.” I choked out a pathetic plea, my final thoughts. Pain, fear, misery...it would all end soon enough, but while I was still alive, it was fucking torture. “Dad...I couldn’t live the life you wanted for me. I tried.” I gasped, feeling tears pour down my ashy face like little hot waterfalls. “Helping people was what brought me here. Didn’t work out so well for me, did it?”
My life, my parents’ death at Terragrigia when I was younger, my work at TerraSave...it all amounted to nothing. To a mutilated body, about to be forgotten on this Russian island in the middle of nowhere.
Glaring down at my godforsaken bracelet that Wesker had placed there herself, I saw the damning flashing of a bright, bright red light and for a moment, wished that I would die. Right there, right then, torn to pieces, anything! I just didn’t want to become like them.
Then something odd happened, and there was an odd moment of relative silence— before a blast from the other side of the door knocked me clean off my feet and sent me flying into the far wall. All I could see was the unforgiving wall of brick getting closer and closer before I blacked out.
I could’ve roused from my painful slumber an hour or only seconds later. All I knew was that there was something unflatteringly heavy crushing me, and I didn't enjoy it one little bit.
“Nnn.” I groaned, coughing up something from the inside of my mouth as I took in a rather wet breath. I groaned then, realizing that I had a pretty considerable amount of pain radiating from my upper back. A sharp, white-hot pain.
Gasping with some effort, I twitched under the weight of a large and vaguely fleshy object that I came to know as a dead Ironhead, lying half on top of me. Shit…that wasn’t good.
Turning my head, I noted the number of bodies lining the ground, all the way from my prone position and out into the hall. The pain was nearly unbearable, yet I could see light filtering in where there was once a decaying but intact wall, near the main entrance to the cell block. Dawn had come, then.
That’s where they’d all been piled up, before. You know, when they were foaming at the mouth, waiting to tear my insides out?
The door I once pushed so hard against was now a blackened sheet of metal on the floor, the walls around me having been blasted half out of existence.
It was a miracle the ceiling hadn’t caved in on me...much. I supposed I had the bodies of the infected to thank for that.
Moving around was beginning to prove too much at that moment, and I lied still for a few quiet, painful minutes. Faintly, I began to hear the sound of voices─ real voices! Not high-pitched, afflicted ones! It was then I truly began to struggle and gasp as the pain in my back became ever more evident, ever sharper. My chest hurt too, as well as everything inside.
“Augh!” I groaned, vision whiting out for a moment as I shoved at the body on top of me. Something jerked from inside my flesh and I screamed a short, ragged cry of pain before I could stop myself. Fucking hell! There was something buried in my shoulder, and it was being tugged on by my movements trying to shake off the Ironhead.
Gritting my teeth, I hitched a quiet sob as I felt a warm gush of fluid coat my jacket surrounding the injury. Blood. I hadn’t realized how cold my skin was until my spilled blood began to warm it again.
How I hadn’t bled out yet, maybe because of the object still inside, the weight on it, or my six-month-old virus, was anyone’s guess.
I whimpered, dreading the moments to come because I knew I was either going to die, or have to put myself through some very serious pain to get out from under it. Unsuccessfully, I tried to shift out from under the invading object.
It was the same situation all over again; even if people were here (and somewhere in my pain-fogged mind, I suspected there were) I were still in the same position. Worse off, even.
“Oh shit…” I coughed suddenly, tasting blood as my breath stuttered. I wasn’t feeling woozy yet, just fatigued...and I felt like my back had been set on fire. I didn’t know the exact nature of my injuries yet, but suspected broken or at least bruised ribs. The puncture, obviously, and another pain, deeper in your chest. Hopefully not a punctured lung but the more I coughed, the more I suspected as such. It was hard to tell, because my breath was labored already. The blood could’ve been from my mouth or nose too.
Little by little, the voices in the distance forgotten for now, I inched myself out from under the weight of the infected. My grunts and short cries fell on dead silence as I squirmed my way out, feeling a steady trickle of blood leave me as the shallow end of the Ironhead’s weapon slid free. I felt like passing out a couple of times, but forced myself to move. I may not get another chance.
I was still alive. Somehow, against the odds, I’d lived...I wasn't going to screw that up for myself now by being weak.
“I thought…..heard….head west…”
My breath, shallow and pained, quieted for a moment at the sound of a man’s voice─ this time closer than earlier, but still quite far away and echoing in the empty block. No, no...two voices!
I tried to pull in air to maybe yell, but I was still half frightened out of my mind that another horde might converge on me if I were to make a noise. That’s how it usually went...and if I were honest, who knew if those men could even help me? If they were here to help?
Don’t be useless, I scolded myself; little streams of pain leaving my eyes as I propped myself up against the same wall I’d leaned on earlier, good shoulder first. Ever so slowly, I inched my way out into the empty and demolished hall to peer out the gaping hole in the short wall nearest the main entrance.
The bars surrounding the far doorway were singed black and bent at odd angles in different spots, but were still standing, surrounded by rubble. The state of the rest of the block was much the same; most of the walls across the hall had been demolished in whatever strike had occurred just before I passed out.
Just beyond, into the hallway and out the main, garage-style door, was a mess of smoldering rubble. The rubble provided a bit of cover, if anything came from that direction....no promises about what would come from further in, though, nearest the security room. Jesus Christ, what had happened?
It looked like a bomb had gone off. Seriously. The hall was empty, the ceiling was caved in, everything was severely singed black, and thoroughly trashed. Er...even more than usual.
“What the hell?” I asked quietly, wincing as I stretched my wounded shoulder gingerly and peered through the hole. Out the gaping and smoking entrance of the prison I’d survived in for the last half-year, were three men, all in matching military dress.
U.K. or U.S. military dress, if I were to guess...but that was too good to be true. Or maybe, a hallucination. Hell if I knew the difference anymore. Last week, I was sure I’d seen a little girl in a white dress, of all things, ducking behind a stack of crates. Of course, she’d been gone by the time I’d gotten there.
No, what were you saying?! She hadn’t been there at all. Get a grip, for Christsakes.
“-ve been told not to proceed until we’ve swept the area.” One of the men sighed, and my poor heart stopped and thudded in my chest. That certainly didn’t sound like a hallucination. “Not sure why. If anyone was alive in this shithole, they’re probably dead now.”
“Not far off the mark.” I rasped in pain, planning to get up and see if I really was hallucinating. For the moment, the feeling and sound of dragging footsteps were lost on me.
I only got as far as my knees before I dropped back down screaming, because my head had nearly been taken off by a huge gray bastard with a club and a dirty pillowcase on its head. Behind me, I heard the screaming of more afflicted, and was forced to drag myself away from the cell I’d been crouched at; heading away from the other humans.
Behind me, a roar of excitement followed, as well as a flying pile of shit on fire, just barely missing my head as I scrambled away. The heat of whatever red-hot mess was being thrown warmed my skin terribly as it splattered on an old electrical unit under the stairs.
Just my luck, I thought bitterly as I limped and hobbled my way up the old, rusted steps. Behind me, I thought I could hear the yelling of human voices, but ignored them in favor of escaping with my life.
I left behind a barrage of roaring, flaming oil, and cries of the normal types as I vacated the area in a hurry, surprised at my own energy. I stopped at the top of the steps and looked back down reluctantly, catching sight of the three men shielding their faces from the fire separating us. I couldn’t see them very well─ only a small, fleeting image of each of them, but they were facing my direction. They might’ve even seen me too, through all the chaos.
Those soldiers were real...and I’d been forced to run from them. Leave or die, as per usual.
Gritting my teeth, I made it to the security room and slammed the door behind me as well as I were able to with my wrecked shoulder. Securing the door with several rods of metal I’d found earlier in the year, I waited and watched in hopelessness as the soldiers at the entrance retreated back to the more advantageous combat area of the outdoors.
They were gone. Just like that.
Who could blame them? I thought, taking a heavy seat on one of the cracked and dusty chairs, clutching my arm in a tight grip.
Whatever I told myself, that this was the good karma owed to me, that fate that had saved me, that there was still time for me to be rescued...that luck, for once, was finally on my side…
I were just getting so very tired of it all.
Heaving a breath and trying not to collapse into pained tears, I relaxed into the hard padding of the chair and winced as a flaming ball of fire landed just outside the parameters of my little safe harbor. None of the larger types save Iron Heads had ever wandered this far out of the mining sites or sewers. Those rusted scraps I shoved against the door may have kept out anything looking to get in prior, but it wouldn’t keep out that sumo-esque monstrosity outside. Not for long.
Sitting back up as I heard the creature’s approaching footfalls, I spotted a tool I’d never had cause to use in the past— a boxcutter.
With no boxes to speak of, it was too thin to open cans, too short to even be considered a close-range weapon, and I had my knife for everything else. Nonetheless, I scooped it up from among the trash and sent a blank grimace toward the filthy thing holding the glowing pot. Hurriedly, I vacated the area.
On my way out, I thought about many things, trying to distract myself from the pain. Trying to put things into perspective. It didn’t work— I needed to find bandages, fast. In my little internal spiel of regret and pain, I realized I didn’t exactly know where I was going.
Honestly, if I said I was looking for a way back to the soldiers...I’d have been lying. Sure, they were here now...but I still didn’t know whose side they were on. Were they private militia? Were they working with Neil? That would make sense, why else would anyone be here? TerraSave had been attacked half a year ago, it didn’t seem plausible anyone who’d actually searched would find me now.
Or, were they here to rescue the sad remnants of Terrasave? If that were the case, they’d soon be disappointed. As far as I knew, I was the only one left…
Leaning against one wall in a flickering hallway, I sniffled and tried to bite back the pain. Though, before long, there wasn’t much else to think about other than the tragedy I’d endured since being dropped on this freakshow of an island. Oh, Gabe.... We'd joined TerraSave together, but from different backgrounds— the oddest of pairs among our peers. I’d thought out of all of us, he’d be the one to make it.
It wasn’t just him, of course. Claire...Moira...Edward, Gina...Pedro.... Remembering my Hispanic friend’s lighthearted voice made my jaw tremble as I thought back on the last time I saw him alive, along with Gabe, attempting to fix up the old helicopter after the two of us had woken up in the same apartment building. That was before we'd gotten separated in the forests, and lost each other. I’d been scavenging for parts with the rest of them, when I’d been cut off by a flash mob of afflicted, and...
I guess it wasn’t you flying the helicopter earlier, was it, Gabe? I thought, trying to pull myself together as my breath hitched and my shoulders shook painfully. Reaching a hand up, I flinched, realizing I really did need to find bandages soon.
Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I slid and pushed upwards on trembling legs, leaving a bloody mark on the wall, and dragged my feet through the prison hallways. Heading east, because I was sure I’d heard the one soldier say ‘west’. In pain but internally becoming numb, I stumbled my way through the more hospitable parts of the detention center; the parts that housed suicide-risks and addicts rather than sheer criminals. How ironic...
Why me? Out of all of them, all the other TerraSavers, why did I deserve to live? It was something I’d been asking myself for a while now. Sure, the drive to live might have been there, or at least it used to be, but...the nightmares... this wasn’t living. It was just surviving.
With Gabe and Pedro now dead with the rest, with TerraSave being a failure, and me, now infected with a new virus...what did I really have to live for?
I’d joined TerraSave to help people, and look where it’d gotten me.
Tears falling freely, I decided not to fight it and instead heaved a sob as I reached yet another officer's quarters, nearest the eastern lookout point. I choked and sniffed into my sleeve once more, both in pain and a deep-rooted sadness as my back throbbed white-hot pain and big, warm tears fell down my face. Right then was the most human I’d felt in months. Maybe even since I’d very first been dropped on the island. I hadn’t known who the real enemy was until it was too late.
Neil...what kind of person could do what he did? How could someone subject another person to this kind of fear and turmoil? Let alone several...fifteen people in total from the North American branch of Terrasave. He didn’t seem like that type of person. How could anyone be so cruel?
Dragging myself through an almost homey-looking part of the prison, I found myself inside an officer’s room. It was a room I’d been in before, with a little couch, a chair and desk, and an old box-style TV. Across the room, there was a fire escape and a rickety ladder leading down to the east courtyard.
Overcome with gradually darker and darker thoughts, I thumbed my shiny new friend in and out of its plastic sheath. Stowing the boxcutter in one of my pockets for now, I climbed through the far window and out onto the rusted walkway. The island breeze rustled my dusty hair and cooled the sweat beginning to collect on my face and neck— but feeling the humid, sea-scented air on my warm skin was hardly a relief.
I hated it. I wanted to be home again. I used to love the ocean─ until I’d been set right in the middle of it, with no salvation in sight. I hated Neil for taking that away from me too.
Among other things. Oh, Claire...the two of us had been so naive. All of us had. But ‘naivety’ wasn’t exactly right either...I’d thought TerraSave had been a good idea. Each and every one of us were there to help people, to reach out when no one else would. That’s what the organization was about. I thought Neil was my friend...who’d have ever expected Neil Fisher to be that type of person?
How stupid I was...I just wished I’d been the only one to suffer the consequences.
Sniffling, I unsheathed the blade of my new boxcutter and squeezed the small handle in my fingers ever harder. Bending over the bars of the fire escape, I took in quick, stuttering breaths as I studied the ground below. A good two stories to the rocky, unforgiving courtyard of the prison, I watched as my tears fell to meet the relatively drier dirt, making marks I couldn’t see.
My fingers trembled on the slim tool, sliding the little thumb-release back and forth in what would have been an almost mocking motion, if it were a little steadier. I’d considered ending my life before in the past six months...but I’d never actually held a weapon in my hand to do it. I couldn’t shoot myself; with my bowgun gone and no handgun to speak of, that wasn’t in the cards. I didn’t want to simply starve to death, die swimming away or anything else...and if I did, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t become one of them.
My knife had always had some sort of infected fluid on it. I already carried the fear virus (or T-Phobos, more articulately), but who knows what other crap had been in the creatures I’d stabbed? I’d never even considered the boxcutter before─ it was clean, unused except for its intended purpose, or so I hoped. The metal was dusty, but unrusted and unstained. There was a minimal chance of infection, using its blade.
Below me and still a distance away, a bunch of afflicted had come running from somewhere to the west. I watched, only half-interested from the corner of my eye for a moment. One of them, up front, appeared faster than the others.
Oh, wonderful. Another nightmare to worry about...now, instead of decaying into fleshy skeletons over time, they were becoming super-powered.
Rolling my watery eyes in irritation, I allowed myself to slide down to the metal-grated floor of the escape and hang my legs over the edge of the railing. Leaning forward (because leaning back would hurt my wound) I sniffed and wiped at my face.
Pop!
Startled, I jolted painfully as a gun was fired somewhere almost directly below me. Gasping, I kicked out and shimmied painfully back against the wall of the building─ and looked down to see a soldier, making all haste towards a guard tower some hundred-and-some-odd feet away.
Dressed in the same outfit as the others from earlier, the soldier turned toward the scattered crowd following him and shot, bullet after bullet directly into the heads of the oncoming horde. I watched, mildly shocked and impressed at the sheer accuracy of his aim as he continued to stumble and jog backwards. Before he turned and continued running, past the building I currently occupied, he’d shot seven in total just from the time I’d been watching him.
And, as fate would have it, the soldier tripped over a mass of rubble, tumbling about; and I could see his face, twisted up in a fierce scowl as he landed face-up.
For my part, my tears had stopped falling as soon as I saw that pained, tense expression of his. I don’t know exactly what happened in that moment, except that everything around me seemed to come to a halt...even the encroaching horde of afflicted in the near distance.
Several thoughts crossed my mind as I stared in stunned silence at the soldier beneath me. The first of which was, he might actually make it.
I recognized him vaguely, from the brief visage I’d seen through the fire at the cell block. Standard fatigues for military personnel; BSAA from the looks of it...now at least I knew that much. A scarf around his neck and the rifle he’d used strapped dangerously to his back, machine pistol in hand.
Handsome. Dark hair, tanned skin…young. Jesus, how young was this kid? He couldn’t have been much older than me...and I was twenty-two.
He’s not an infected... I thought in wonder, watching in mute fascination as the soldier got up from the ground, not seeming to notice me at all, nearly directly above him as he booked it for the open door of the guard tower.
It wasn’t a fast mutated freak leading that pack of rabid afflicted over here, it was this guy...
Shaken from my internal revarie, I could only stare as a crowd of near fifteen afflicted and freak alike chased the lone man into the small building. How could he have attracted so many of them in the short time we’d parted ways at the cell block? And why was he now alone?
“Shit.” I muttered, not for the first time that day as I sniffed and wiped my face, lurching forward in disbelief as the soldier slammed the door of the tower behind him, bolting it. My heart jumped in my chest at the sight, reminding me painfully that I was still alive as I felt a small, muted smile alight on my face; light as a feather and liable to drift away any moment.
He made it...for now.
I swayed briefly off to one side in a small dizzy spell as I once more leaned heavily on the iron railing, taking in deep, labored breaths. My hands didn’t grip anything, but they felt unsteady and weak nonetheless. Over at the guard tower, I saw the soldier reach the very top and come cautiously to the busted windows, looking out before pushing the door open.
Maybe this is my lucky day…
A small laugh escaped me as I once more set eyes on the very first person I’d seen in six months. Alone, dusty and irritated, the soldier paced back and forth over the metal walkway, muttering darkly to himself as he slammed the end of a radio over his palm, attempting to make it work. Saying things I couldn’t hear over the small distance.
For the first time in a long time, my eyes widened in something other than fear as I took him in once more, fighting back a second set of tears. This time, they weren’t tears of pain.
From the considerable distance between the two of us, I gripped the metal bars before me with hands that felt stronger than before. Straining my ears, I choked down a fresh wave of emotion and struggled to listen to what he was saying. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t make out the words. Nonetheless...his voice made me smile.
Once more, I took him in as I stood up gingerly, trying not to jolst my shoulder too much. My legs were unsure under me, but all my attention was on this young man in front of me, as though unable to look away. I had to admit it, I didn’t want to look away.
Try as I might...I could not stop the warmth growing in my chest, just from simply observing him. I tried telling myself to calm down, to stop acting like an idiot─ this soldier was just a person like any other, and it wasn’t that strange for someone like myself to long for human contact after going so long without it. He was just a soldier from the BSAA, sent in to observe the island; a bioterror hotspot. Of course that’s what it was, that’s all it was.
I tried to stamp out the hope suddenly soaring in my chest, I really did. Hope for what? But as hard as I tried, nothing stopped the feeling of my heart increasing in strength just from setting eyes on another person...just when I’d thought I’d given up, fate had to prove me wrong again.
Slowly, I began to smile. Well, more like my face began to relax...I hadn’t underwood how much effort it took to cry, how much energy things like that wasted. Slowly, I felt my beating heart shrink with the knowledge that I may never get the chance to meet this soldier....
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
“─ shit radio!” I caught a faint couple of choice words from across the noisy space and huffed a chuckle.
Stern, from the sound of his voice ─ and that serious look about his young face didn’t seem out of place; I’d always been sort of intimidated by those types of people, but the expression suited him. Lithe and tall (or so he appeared)...dark haired, brunet maybe, with hair that was a bit longer in the front than the back. Tan, but still on the lighter side as far as skin tone; white, white teeth.
He looked strong, and although I hadn’t seen him shoot, he sure carried those weapons like he knew what to do with them. Maybe it was the misery of the last six months talking, maybe it was the loneliness, but this man was also attractive in a boyish way, he looked brave too, and…and...
...and so wonderfully alive.
A warmth filled my chest, knowing that another living person was just straight across from me, trying his damnedest to survive. I didn’t know where the sudden life filling my lungs had come from...but I breathed a little easier now.
Years, or even just months ago, I might’ve looked at someone like him and felt relief at the knowledge he was there to help rescue me...and, I guessed, in a way, I still did. But at that moment, I just wanted him out of there─ he didn’t deserve the horrors of this island. He was still clean. Below, I could see even more afflicted gathering at the bottom of his guard tower, kicking and punching the door but not breaking through yet...
They were stupid, but sooner or later, they would get through.
Worse than that...there was a revenant in all that crowd of ugly. I didn’t know about this one in particular, but...the last revenant I’d met in the industrial plant had known how to climb. They were tricky bastards, and a hassle to kill, especially if one didn’t know the nature of their anatomy. The guard tower was smooth on the outside, but something told me not to take any chances.
So it was just as soon as the sight of the soldier sparked a fire in me, that the sight of the writhing horde attempted to put it out. There could only be a handful of reasons he wasn’t firing his gun─ none of them good. If I didn’t do something soon...this man could die.
It didn’t even matter that he was the one to inadvertently pull me out of the miserable pit I’d dug myself into; even without those weirdly affectionate thoughts for this man I hadn’t even met, I knew I couldn’t let him die. For someone of my nature, being able to save someone else for a change might’ve been the best gift I could’ve been given.
I was not going to be like Neil.
Glancing up as I lurched my way to my feet, using the rusty bars as support, I froze as I saw a pair of tense eyes lock in on my form. Across the empty air, the soldier in question slid the rifle off his back and leveled it’s barrel at me, making me flinch involuntarily.
Wondering a bit uselessly how I looked, another short laugh of emotion and nerves burst from my lips and I coughed, waving a bit as I attempted to smile. Tried to show that I was still human. It wasn’t that hard to raise my lips in greeting and after a moment, I relaxed, knowing he was just checking me out for those reasons rather than aiming to shoot.
Checking me out...ha.
At the top of the tower, the soldier lowered his rifle and I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. Tense, still. Concerned. Slowly, he nodded in an exaggerated motion in my direction and placed a finger to his lips, turning back to examining the gathering crowd at the bottom of his tower.
There wasn’t any fear in that expression. Merely an understanding of the situation at hand. Of course, I guessed I looked much the same, but my numbness wasn’t exactly due to battle experience. It was a state I’dhad to put myself in, in order to stay alive on this island of the dead. Not like him.
“So brave…” I chuckled, the sound empty as I lamented my fate, the gears of a plan already turning in your head as I saw yet another revenant join the horde at his tower. None of them had set eyes on me yet, though they probably couldn’t do much about me even if they had. They’d have to run through the whole building or jump to reach the ladder just to get to me.
What would Gabe do? I swallowed down the sadness, turning to glance back into the officer’s room. Reluctantly, I grabbed one of the last few syringes from my medic pouch and stuck one into my arm with a wince. Probably something stupid…
Picking up the boxcutter I’d dropped, I took off my jacket and stepped back into the officers quarters, grunting with effort and the pain of fabric moving against my injured skin. Shooting the soldier a meaningful look and one finger up in the classic ‘I’ll be right back’ gesture, I turned my attention away from him. Which was a real shame─ I didn’t want to take my eyes off that tower for a single second.
Jesus, the room was a mess. More of a mess than I’d thought originally, not that I’d been paying attention. I’d need quite a few things to carry out my plan, and not a whole lot of time to look for them. Lucky for me, the people who resided on this island were Russian. There had to be at least one more left around here…
I pulled open the very bottom drawer of the overturned desk, and shoved some file folders aside, grabbing an old pair of scissors I found for good measure.
Fuck yes!
Three minutes later found me gritting my teeth and clambering down the caged ladder like an idiot with three glass bottles tucked under one arm.
Even with the slight aid of the first-aid shot, I was in no condition to be climbing anything, let alone making plans to run. This was stupid of me...and a disservice to the people who’d come to this island. Now that I knew they were BSAA, I also knew what they were here for..and nothing had changed from earlier to now. I was still sure I was one of the only people left, if not the only one.
If I died now...the secrets of the island, the virus, the FBC and Alex Wesker may die with me. After all, if the BSAA were just now showing up and bombing different parts of the island in an attempt to sterilize it, much of T-Phobos’ research would be destroyed. Adding to all that, I seemed to have developed a resistance to it, and that may help with vaccine research.
I owed it to the world to stay alive, the logical part of my mind argued. None of it deterred me from what I was about to do.
“Hey!”
A voice hissed throatily, making my breath stutter for a second. Hell, it must have been the lack of human interaction over the last half-year, but that voice...was the best thing I’d ever heard in my life. It was almost enough to distract me into looking.
“Hey!” He tried once more, a little louder this time as I lowered myself further down the ladder, graceless and injured as I was.
Dropping the small distance from the last fragile rung to the ground, I panted in exertion and dislodged one of the bottles from my arm, popping the metal top with my teeth before scattering its contents in a rough line across the ground. Hopefully, the little patches of grass that sprung out of the dirt weren’t too wet to catch fire. Up ahead, one revenant turned around and caught sight of me, letting out a throaty roar.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” The soldier now yelled, waving his arms to distract the crowd of BOW’s and I felt a little giddy inside, my pathetic heart beating steady in my chest now that I had something to look forward to. Something besides simple death. “Climb back up! Hurry! Help is on the way, we’re gonna get you out of here!”
“No time for help.” I murmured, eyeing the other revenant that was just now beginning to use its superior strength to find the smallest of nooks and crannies in the tower’s walls; climbing up, a little unsuccessfully. It was the reason the whole horde hadn’t yet turned around and descended on me.
Really, I owed that rotting piece of shit my thanks. Shaking my head, I flicked my near-empty zippo lighter open and began rapidly flicking the igniter.
Thirty minutes ago, I couldn’t imagine my plans of wasting away being rapidly changed. Well, surprise, past me! They had...and none of them involved letting this man die.
From the look of it, the soldier hadn’t been alone. If my plan worked, it would draw most of them away, if not all of them...and when that happened, I’d need all the preparation I could manage. Even if it meant a little fire on the ground that might light some of them up as they chased me.
“My luck…” I panted, spotting something that I swore was sent from god just to mock me. “Just keeps getting better and better…”
That fucking revenant? The one I was worried about climbing the wall? It was the same one I’d gotten into a fight with the day before...and it had my empty bowgun. Hanging off a hook on its back!
Throwing the bottle down with a low clunk, I noted the soldier had gone quiet now, perhaps wondering what I was doing as I debated whether getting the bowgun was worth it or not. The second revenant with my weapon was well behind (or in front of) the crowd, and simply watching the soldier right now that it had fallen back to the ground. The risk of acquiring the weapon was equal to not. Then again…
Then again, I could simply use one of the makeshift bombs on it and hope the damn thing burned to death.
If this soldier was low on ammo, or was having malfunctions with his gun, then simply burning the revenant to death (again) and leaving behind my case of arrows would help the soldier out immensely. If the man knew how to use it…that was a lot of if’s, and little time to think things through.
Without a second thought, I gazed up at the dark-haired soldier, stumbled back a little, and stopped for a moment to study him. I wished I had a rifle too, just so I could see him, see what he looked like up close. At this level, it was harder to see his face, and I couldn’t see much, but…
It was enough. I knew at that moment that I'd rather die here than see him die for me. No one deserved that...if I could save one person here, then maybe, just maybe, it would all mean something.
Pulling my hand back with all the strength I had left, I threw the bomb.