10. The Way Out is Through
The rain was coming down in sheets now, and Chris could barely see in front of him. He had taken off his jacket and put it over his head for protection, but it was little cover from the strong downpour. In other circumstances, he would wonder if Washington DC usually had such bad weather or if he were simply unlucky, but these were not other circumstances. As he ran splashing through puddles that spread over the city's sidewalks like giant oceans mapping a concrete globe, all he could think of was Jill Valentine. Every second passed was a second she could be dead, or worse, exposed to the virus and parasite.
He stepped under the cover of an adjacent alleyway and put his hands on his knees, panting hard. He had been running for the past hour, following the destruction left in the creature's wake, and his body was finally shutting down. His muscles throbbed in protest. Still, he couldn't give up. Not now. Not when it was his fault that Steve Burnside had been able to take Jill. The tyrant took her while Chris and Leon were dealing with a loose Plagas and were distracted. If he'd thought quicker, Jill would be at his side right this very minute.
He sighed wistfully and straightened up, running his fingers through his soaking hair.
What bothered Chris the most of the situation wasn't even that Jill was missing. What bothered him was that the tyrant had somehow mistaken her for Chris' sister, Claire Redfield. This showed an error, a mistake made in the heat of the moment and a lapse of judgment due to emotion. This was something tyrants were not usually programmed for, and was indicative of humanity—it was indelibly human to error, not something normal for a B.O.W. And yet the creature he'd seen was nothing remotely human. It had been an abomination of green sinew and scales.
Regardless, he knew that whatever Steve Burnside was, whether he was a tyrant or otherwise, it was directly linked to Albert Wesker. He also knew that when he got to see Wesker face to face that he would teach him a lesson once and for all.
"Jill," he muttered, the rain drowning him out, "I'm coming for you." With that he clenched his fists tightly at his side, and took off running down the sidewalk again, following the trail of broken shop windows and the occasional toppled lamppost.
Chris Redfield was so absorbed in the chase that he forgot to pick up his jacket before he ran again. He didn't turn back and therefore didn't even notice the tracking device affixed to his coat's collar whose red, blinking light stood out in the dark night like a beacon.
Not twenty minutes later, Claire and Leon arrived to the same place Chris had been. Claire leaped out of the passenger's seat of Leon's Toyota, and ran to the alley, her frame silhouetted by the bright headlights. Leon left the engine running and got out, moving with long strides down the alley towards Claire. She was surveying the area with intensity, holding the handheld device that contained the coordinates of the last transmission from the tracking device before it had disappeared off the radar. Her face turned into a frown as she saw Chris' jacket. She knew it was his because she'd bought it for him last Christmas. She bent down and picked up the coat, which was thoroughly soaked by now, and noticed the now short-circuited tracker.
She felt Leon behind her, and felt him put his hand on her shoulder. He cleared his throat. "There's no blood on the jacket. Look, there's not even a tear. He's fine," Leon said soothingly.
Claire nodded, biting her lower lip as she thought of what to do next. He thought this was a mannerism that was cute, and would have told her so, if not for the sudden sound of footsteps. He felt himself tense up as he looked back to the car and saw several shadowy figures in the street. He touched Claire lightly, nudging her to look.
Her blue eyes met the growing crowd. She didn't waver, but she did drop the jacket slowly to the ground and stood strong. She turned to look at Leon closely and mouthed a single word.
Zombies?
He nodded his head, his eyes locking with hers. Both of their expressions were readable, and it quickly became a conversation without words. This comforted Leon, knowing Claire's intentions. Whenever he'd looked at Ada Wong's eyes—in Raccoon City or in Spain—he'd never known what was going on in her head. It bothered him more than the zombies and the crazy cult members because he'd never known what Ada's next move would be, even if she'd known his. In contrast, Claire was an open book. If she was angry, she looked angry; if she was scared, she looked scared. Right now, her eyes were distant and calculating with a trace of fear. He knew she was thinking of an escape plan, and then another escape plan in case something happened.
"Run to the car together, the keys are in the engine," he whispered, barely audible above the rain. The zombies shuffled aimlessly down the street, stopping at the sides of the Toyota, touching its warm hood. The mob was growing in side and Leon knew from experience that they had to make a move now or they would have to abandon the car.
He did not want to abandon the car, if only for the fact that he'd paid half his pay check for it the year prior.
They looked at each other, silently screaming simultaneously to run, and then took off in tandem in a fast sprint. They met the car quickly and Claire shoved her whole body into a zombie, pushing it away from the passenger's door, while Leon sent his foot directly into another's head. Another zombie grabbed for Claire, and she pulled a combat knife out from her thigh holster, and jammed it right into the zombie's skull before shoving it away onto the other zombie who was trying to get up from the cold pavement.
"Claire, get in the car," Leon grunted loudly, struggling as another zombie blindsided him and grabbed for his neck from behind. He wasn't sure if she'd heard him, but he didn't have time to think about it as he tangoed with the undead creature. In the end, it nearly took a chunk out of his shoulder, but he deftly dodged it and backhanded it off, his hands prying open the driver's door. He lunged in and slammed the door behind him before seeing that Claire had made it inside as well. She was hanging over the chair, her legs in the air as she dug in the backseat for munitions.
He hit the lock on the door. "The glove box," he said. Then he hit the pedal on the car and it revved to life, backing into several zombies.
She slid down into her seat and began to dig through the glove box, finding a standard USP. As she checked the clip, Leon found himself hit with déjà vu. Six years ago, she'd done the same thing, only minutes after he'd met her for the first time.
"The rest of the guns are in the trunk," he said apologetically.
She turned to him and smiled. "This will do." Her smile began to fade as she realized the implications of the attack. She wondered if the outbreak were isolated, or if they had another Raccoon City on their hands this time—in the capital of the United States of America.
There was the sound of glass breaking as a zombie smashed through the rear window. The car swerved briefly as Leon was startled, but Claire kept her composure and fired three succinct shots into the back. The zombie fell off the trunk and into the street, joining its brethren in the distance as they drove away.
"What do we do now?" Claire said. She bit her lip again, and Leon gripped the steering wheel tightly.
"We find your brother, we find Jill, and we get out of here," he replied, still gripping the wheel tightly. He occasionally looked back in the mirror to make sure there wasn't a tanker behind them, out of control. There wasn't, but the feelings of déjà vu grew increasingly strong still and the pit in his stomach formed tight knots.
She frowned. "We have to tell the president. We have to call the newspapers. We have to--"
"They sold out, Claire, it's not my responsibility," he said. He looked at her then back at the road. "If they cared, they shouldn't have fucking let Umbrella return!"
"But there's innocent people," she pressed. She looked into the rearview mirror as well, feeling a wave of déjà vu. The pistol was cold in her hands and she shivered from both the temperature and Leon's words.
"We're innocent people as well," he said. Then he added, "We need to find your brother. I don't want to know what else is out there if there's already zombies."
"Wait," she said, "Do you think there's Plagas already as well?"
He thought about saying something other than the truth, but decided not to. She wouldn't be easily fooled anyway. "Yes."
"So there's Steve Burnside, there's zombies, and there's probably parasites all over the streets of DC?"
"Yes."
"And the government won't help us."
"Yes."
Claire just stared at Leon, who could read the fear in her eyes. At the stoplight a few streets down, he pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight. He could have lied to himself and said that it was for her, but really, it was mostly for himself. He had never felt so alone in his life, and he was fearful that the beginning of the end was in place and mankind's fate would be determined in the following few hours.
Author's Note: I started my classes up again, as well as my own forums so I've been busy. I have gotten all the positive reviews in the past month, however, and I must say thanks! Hopefully this pleases you, and you like this part of the story. Don't worry, I have no plans in stopping writing either, I just haven't had much time like I said.