The Searchers, Chapter 1 by patricia51

(Sequel to my story "Tripod". Jill Valentine and Claire Redfield search LA for their missing loved ones now held captive by Umbrella. If they need help they know where to call for it.)

(Waiting)

(Los Angeles secret Umbrella research facility and prison)

Angela Ashford tossed and turned restlessly on her bed. Her half-waking, half-sleeping dreams were filled with barely glimpsed shadowy figures and some that were all too frighteningly visible. But what the young teenager had been through in her life left little room for anything else.

Her eyes popped open as she stirred restlessly. Now awake her mind filled with more images. Images of pictures of a Mother she didn't remember at all; of a Father she had seen die in front of her, shot by an Umbrella operative. Major Cain. It was terrible but even now she felt a jolt of satisfaction at what had happened to that murderer.

The rest of the images rushed over her. The shattering crash of the vehicle that was supposed to speed her to safety. Her classmates, her teachers, the school's pet dogs all becoming undead creatures. The frantic search for the kit her Father had given her and the two shots she had given herself to keep from becoming like her friends.

The sight of the burning city and the battle at the landing zone. The blinding light of the nuclear explosion and then the jarring smash of the helicopter hitting the ground. Then more and more scenes of death, the separation of her adult friends. That terrifying moment when she realized some unknown force was trying to make Alice kill her before the older woman had spun and fled from the place they had all been living and into the night.

The ruins of what had once been North America and the few survivors among the increasing hordes of the undead. The desperate search for a haven, and more than a haven, a home.

But among the images of loss and death and destruction there remained a face and a voice that she clung too. A face she had first seen while hiding in her school after witnessing the death of a female reporter at the hands of her no-longer living classmates.

That face was coupled with a warm hand holding hers. She had clung to that hand, to its comfort. Her Father was wonderful and wise but she couldn't remember anyone holding her hand like that.

"Angela Ashford. That's a big name for such a little girl" the woman had teased gently, trying to make her relax just a bit amid the horror of the day.

"My friends call me Angie," she had said.

"Angie?" The smile that accompanied that name had lit the gloomy darkness of the corridor they were walking down. "I like that."

She remembered the fight at the landing field. When that woman had cut herself free she had shot down the nearby guards and then wrapped herself around Angie, shielding the young girl with her own body. That had not been even close to the last time that Jill Valentine would protect Angie at the risk of her own life.

Angie had loved her Father and all he had done for her. It was because of him that she hadn't been locked in a wheelchair as he had been. She wondered sometimes if it was disloyal to his memory when she doodled on her laptop the name "Angela Valentine". She really didn't think that if he could see her he would have minded that she had found someone who could be her parent now that he was gone.

The teen blinked back tears. She may have lost Jill as well as everyone else. They had been so close, SO close to a sanctuary off the Georgia coast when the Umbrella ambush had been sprung on them. They had tried to get away but their modified and armored truck was no match for the pursuing helicopters. When Jill had lost control and crashed Angie had only had moments to make a decision.

Jill had been unconscious but breathing. Knowing Umbrella as she did Angie had no doubt that if the attackers realized that her adult companion was alive they would immediately take steps to make sure that she wouldn't be a future threat. Quickly she had smeared the blood from the cut on Jill's forehead over the woman's face and shoulders, making it look as though she was dead or at least hurt very badly. Then she had snatched up the spare laptop they had acquired and stuffed the other one, the one containing the data she had gathered on the T-Virus, under the torn-up back seat and run across the field and down the road they had been traveling down.

She knew she couldn't get away. That wasn't the point. She was simply drawing attention away from Jill. She knew if the woman she had come to think of as much more than a traveling companion or even a dear friend survived she would come for her. So she had to give her a chance. When the Umbrella goons had grabbed her she had kicked and punched and screamed "You killed her!"

It had worked she was pretty sure. As she was hustled towards one of the waiting helicopters she had seen another contingent of black clad men peeked into the wrecked vehicle. They had taken no more than seconds before leaving. It had appeared that no one had even climbed into the vehicle or even touched Jill.

So as day after day went by in this prison she was kept in, with the doctors prodding and poking at her and the discussions carried on as though she was some lab animal incapable of understanding what they planned for her, she held on to that hope. At night when she buried her face in her pillow and cried she also prayed.

"Please God, let Jill find me soon."

Tonight she felt so alone as she silently sent out her desire on the wings of hope. She hadn't come today. Maybe she would tomorrow. Angie refused to even consider the idea that Jill would not be coming for her.

"Jill," she breathed, wanting to use another term but afraid that saying it out loud would let her captors know how important the person was she thought of all the time. She was sure they monitored her. So in her heart only she called out to the woman who was now her mother.

Unknown to Angie, not more than five miles away Jill Valentine pushed her night vision goggles up on top of her head.

"I don't see anything," she whispered to the shadowy form stretched out beside her.

"Neither do I," replied Claire Redfield. "I think we can move down the hill and settle in for the day in that old storage building. It's concrete blocks, no windows and a steel door just in case. Based on what we've seen I don't think anything would be drawn that soon to us but better safe than sorry."

"Okay." Jill pulled her goggles back down and the two women moved swiftly and silently from the crest of the hill down to the chosen refuge for the day. But Jill's eyes flickered in one direction time and again until the pair disappeared inside the building.

"I'm coming baby," she whispered. "Hang on."

(To Be Continued)

(The novelization of "Extinction" explains the absence of Angie by postulating that Alice killed her while under the control of Umbrella. I don't accept that for a moment. But that's okay, after all isn't that the very basis of fanfiction?)