Hazard: Zero To One

By. Indigo Siren

Disclaimer: Resident Evil is to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved.

Epilogue

She gently smoothed her fingers over the collar of her suit jacket. The material was crease free and still lingered with warmth from the iron. She’d spent long hours that morning to make sure her outfit was immaculate for the coming events of the day.

Rebecca’s dress-suit, a dark charcoal colour, had only been worn three times, this being the third. The first was to her graduation ceremony, then to her job interview with S.T.A.R.S., and now for this memorial ceremony. She’d been unsure on make-up, but had decided to at least apply a little blush and lipstick, skipping on the mascara in case the waterworks kicked in.

Sometimes she wondered if she had any more tears left in her. She hated feeling so pathetic - crying when a single thought drifted to those who’d died so mercilessly. There was so much blame still lingering in her heart, mostly directed at herself, and she couldn’t seem to shake the weight of it off of her shoulders.

But it wasn’t just the woe dragging her soul down to the darkest depths, it was the fear, an inescapable bubble that she was trapped inside. It clutched her heart - made her tremble to her very core. Every shadow frightened her witless, as if they were stalking her everywhere she went. Anyone with a pale or drawn complexion was enough a zombie to her as the creatures still living inside her memories. It was ridiculous to compare, these living, breathing people in such away, but just one little trigger had her breaking out in a cold sweat and running for the safety of her home.

The monsters should have never crossed reality, and stayed in myth where they belonged.

The grip of terror became so much at times, that she locked her bedroom door and curled up into a tight ball beneath the quilts. She’d even taken to sleeping with her S.T.A.R.S issued Beretta at nights under her pillow as a safeguard.

But it wasn’t simply reality that drew a cold sweat on her brow. It was the nightmares.

It had been a week and a half since the incident, and she hadn’t had a decent nights sleep since. Plagued by the groaning zombies and the screams of her dying comrades, she found herself dosing up on coffee and leaving the television on, even if it was just a channel inundated with infomercials. It was better then trying to sleep in a room totally dipped in silence. But then again, to her fragile mind, it wasn’t true silence. No, there was always some sound that snapped her eyes open darting like a frightened animal. The tree rustling outside her window, someone moving about in the apartments next to hers, even the sound of the neighbouring cat mewing on the balcony was enough to send her heart racing.

She didn’t know if saying goodbye to her companions would be the beginning of the end of this nightmarish time, but she certainly had no choice but to move on and hope that her brittle psyche would soon mend itself. But part of her didn’t want to say goodbye - admit they were really gone. It wasn’t as if she was denying they were dead, but standing in a church and listening a priest recount the lives of these fallen men was going to drive the stake painfully further into her heart. It had been shattering enough to help make those devastating calls to their families, listening to them weep for all their worth, but seeing those people in the flesh and even making a speech before them as Chris had suggested, was going to tear her soul to pieces.

She’d never felt this way before, not about anything. But what could she expect? Nobody in known existence had gone through this same situation and survived.

She sat by the window, looking out onto the busy section that turned off onto Euston Street, one of the main roads that ran directly into Raccoon Central. The morning sunlight glared against the window, making it hard to see all the bustle that was going on below. There was movement for sure, both people and cars in continuous motion. So sequential, or better called routine.

That was life. And she thanked God for everyday she had on his green Earth.

To the side of her was her speech, scrawled onto jotter paper. Words crossed out and re-written and crossed out again in a semi-coherent mess stared back at her. She knew what to say based on what she’d managed to prepare, but she didn’t know if the words would be good enough for the families to hear. Nothing would be good enough, no words or anything, to fill in the gap of a human life lost.

She had to turn away from the words on the paper, but couldn’t escape the thoughts still fresh in her mind. She would never forget what happened, not for lack of trying. The horrors would be permanently imprinted inside her brain until the day she died. Certainly, she didn’t want to forget her comrades, but she wanted to remember them for the time she’d spent with them before that final fateful mission.

Twisted twice around her wrist was Richard’s gold chain. She’d kept it close ever since she returned to civilisation. Besides pictures she’d found in the office, this was the only real thing left of him. Something that had been of value to him before he’d died. Today, she wanted that little piece of him around while she said her goodbyes. She hoped he, and the others, might be there in spirit, to know they were going to be missed - to know they’d be never forgotten.

Her doorbell chimed like a fog horn in the hushed apartment, stirring her quite suddenly from her thoughts. Composing herself, she rose from her seat, gathering the speech notes as she proceeded out into the hall to answer it, though not before peeping through the spy hole. She had been extra vigilant in this last week.

It was Chris, as she expected, there to take her to the ceremony. Sighing quietly, she opened the door, stepping aside to let him in. “Just want to sort out my bag and I’ll be ready to go,” She told him as he made his way through to the lounge.

“It was so hard to pull myself out of bed this morning.” He said as he slowly walked the length and breadth of the lounge, somewhat admiring her furnishing absentmindedly. Rebecca stood just out in the hallway, still within his sights, throwing numerous necessities into a small plush bag with far more depth in it then to the naked eye. “It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid it, but I’ve been feeling out of whack a lot recently, I just didn’t know if I could take anymore of it.”

“I know what you mean.” She slipped the speech into the muddle of her bag, and after tossing her keys inside, she made sure to cram in the four packs of pocket sized tissues. She probably wouldn’t be the only one using them, and was always best to be prepared. “There’s going to be quite a few people there, most of them doubtlessly are going to cry their eyes out…”

“Yeah…” He went quiet for a moment, digging his hands into his pockets. “Can’t dodge it I suppose, however much I want to bury my head and ignore it.”

“Misery breeds more misery…” Rebecca spoke the words softly, more to herself. She understood him perfectly. She wanted to mourn, but she wanted to do so in peace. But they had to honour their lost team mates and they had to face the numerous families who were facing an unbearable loss.

“Some of us are heading back to Barry’s later. For drinks and stuff…” Chris stepped back out into the hall as Rebecca zipped up and shouldered her bag. “You going to come along?”

“Yeah. I think I could do with a drink. Just don’t tell the cops, okay?” It was the first time she’d smiled in a while, and it wasn’t much of one at that. He returned it.

“All set?” She nodded and he thumbed to the door. “Come on then. We might get there a little early but at least we can have some time there alone without all the hysteria. Don‘t know if Jill will be around there yet. I know she lives close to the church.”

“I’ll warn you, I’m feeling pretty shaky…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not going to break down, but I’m not exactly feeling like a pillar of strength.”

She temporarily swallowed back her fragility and followed in close step after Chris.

There would be sadness, hard times that would seem never ending, but they would keep moving forward. No back-steps, no retries, just the constant motion ahead into the awaiting future.

And Rebecca promised herself that she would live to her fullest. For those who’d given up their lives for her, for those who’d always believed in her.

She would live - for the sake of peace and justice.

The End.

Final A/N: And nearly two years on, we have finally reached the end. I've really enjoyed writing the story and am happy to finally bring it to an end, but at the same time, am sad that its all over. The journey has been long and I've put alot of time and effort into it, even at times doubting myself that chapters took nigh on forever to get out. I want to especially thank all my reviewers who spent the time reading and writing what you think and what you've liked about each chapter. I even thank the silent readers, too. I will be writing further Resident Evil stories, more on Rebecca as well, so keep looking out for those. Again, thank you for keeping up with me all these years while I've fought my way through right to the end. Its been a good battle and I think it was worth every second! Until next time! Bye bye!