Notes:- I'm back! Apologies for the long wait, had some laptop issues and had to wait for it to be fixed. Anyways, here's the first chapter of The Facility Aftermath! Set one year after the events of The Facility. Enjoy!
The Facility – Aftermath
Chris Redfield allowed his foot to press down a little harder on the accelerator as his hired Jeep powered down the dusty and desolate road. The sun was high in the air and beating down on the khaki coloured vehicle and even with the air conditioning cranked up the full, he could still feel the stifling heat. The Jeep's radio had given out a few miles back as he'd driven out of the last town. He hoped that the people of Kijuju were a lot friendlier than those last guys. He'd been warned that it wasn't the most ideal place to be an American but he hadn't expected to be looked upon with such hatred. He'd gotten the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
Without the radio, Chris was forced to look to his immediate surroundings for a distraction from the blistering midday heat. Unfortunately for him the scenery was pretty dull. The ground was a muted palette of beiges and browns, the cracked baked earth scattered with dry yellowed scrub bushes reaching towards the clear blue sky. The trees that dotted the landscape were short and stunted, the dull green foliage hanging limply from the spider like branches.
It would've been all too easy for him to simply turn the damn Jeep around and head back to the airport and civilisation as he knew it but he needed to remind himself why he was here.
He'd returned from Spain in high spirits, having secured the greatly needed funding for the BSAA. One of the first things that he'd done was go over to Barry's house to tell him all about his Spanish adventures. He'd been met at the front door by hushed tones and a grave expression from his former S.T.A.R.S colleague. While Chris had been away, something terrible had happened to Jill. She'd been working on some run of the mill case in Chicago when she'd suddenly disappeared. She'd been in regular contact with Barry and her boyfriend, Carlos Oliviera but after a week the phone calls and e-mails dried up. Worried, Carlos had flown to Chicago and searched her last known whereabouts only to come up with nothing. The local police had gotten involved and even they had failed to find any trace of her. By the time Chris returned from Spain she'd been missing for weeks. Chris threw himself into the search and those weeks had turned into months. Before he knew it, it had been a year since her disappearance. Barry, Carlos and the rest of Jill's family were beginning to come to terms with the fact that by now, she was probably dead.
Chris however, refused to believe that his resourceful former partner had succumbed to that fate. If anything, his searching intensified and he'd made a few phone calls to Leon, begging the younger man to use his position in the government to help. Then last week, out of nowhere, the BSAA received an anonymous tip-off that Jill had been sighted in a small town in West Africa. Barry had been suspicious about the tip off but, as far as Chris was concerned, it was information and he was damned if he was going to let it go cold. So here he was, with Barry's reluctant backing, chasing down a rumour.
The view didn't improve much as he drove into the village. The terrain of the roads remained bumpy and uneven, the dust rising in clouds as the tires rolled onwards. The only colour came from the various metal signs hanging above wooden stalls and corrugated sheet metal doorways. With the Jeep windows rolled down he was assaulted by the mixture of smells within the air, there was a strong smell of manure, doubtless provided by the livestock that had been herded into makeshift cages made from chicken wire that lined the street. Coupled with that was the choking smell of death emanating from the corpses of goats that were hanging from some of the stalls. Villagers milled around the street, the women carrying large pots of water on their heads, the men strolling idly by, staring as the Jeep rolled past them. Chris felt uneasy as he pulled over. He'd been told to meet his contact at a local butcher's. He pulled up beside a battered looking building that appeared to be a street café. The villagers were staring at him openly now, some of them actually slowing down to gape at him as he got out of the Jeep. He had a quick look around and couldn't see anyone who was likely to be his contact. He leant against the driver's door, immediately regretting it when the hot metal stung his back through his BSAA t-shirt.
"The sun does have a tendency to do that," A familiar voice mocked.
"Where the hell did you come from"? Chris asked, his mouth hanging open as Leon Kennedy came out of the entrance to the café, a bottle of water in his hand. He looked a little different than the last time they'd met. His blonde hair was now a couple of shades darker and slightly shorter but still in that silly floppy style that, if he was honest, had always thought looked dumb. He was dressed in desert camo style combats and a fitted light grey top.
"America"? Leon replied with a raised eyebrow. "I do live there now remember?" He took a sip from the bottle of water. "How've you been anyway"? His face formed that concerned, gentle look that Chris had come to accept that he would receive from people who'd heard about Jill.
"Yeah" Chris nodded, about to lean against the Jeep once more before remembering. "I guess I dropped off the map after…" Chris' voice tailed off. He hated to say her name, even now. Leon seemed to understand this and nodded, a sympathetic look crossing his features. "So what brings you here anyway"? Chris asked, eager to change the subject in the ensuing uncomfortable silence. "Did Barry ask you to help? Didn't think the government would let you track down a simple case of a missing person" He continued, a slight hint of bitterness to his voice.
"They wouldn't" Leon replied simply with a shrug. "It's not why I'm here. Although, I think that Jill's disappearance has more to do with my mission that what people are willing to consider"
"Huh"? Chris blinked and looked blank. He'd forgotten how much Leon liked to talk in complicated sentences. Was it a prerequisite for Secret Service agents to be so damn enigmatic? Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head. In spite of the serious situation surrounding their reunion, Chris couldn't help but smile a little. It was almost beginning to feel just like old times back in Spain.
"Why don't you let me explain you impatient oaf"? Leon handed Chris the bottle of water. Chris gulped from it gratefully, the water dribbling down the front of his BSAA top. Leon raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, instead choosing to offer his explanation. "We received intelligence that Wesker has been conducting experiments near this village," The younger man continued. "Whether or not he's created a new facility is still in doubt. But don't you think, given the former S.T.A.R.S history with Wesker that it's a little bit too much of a coincidence that at the same time you receive information about Jill being here, we receive information that Wesker's here too"?
Chris squeezed the water bottle hard, ignoring the powerful spurt of water that exploded from the open neck, narrowly missing Leon. Wesker. Why hadn't he thought of the evil bastard before? It made perfect sense. Capturing Jill was the sort of sick, twisted thing he'd do.
"I take it you won't argue if I say we should work together on this one"? Leon asked. He was looking around, a wary expression on his face. The villagers were still openly staring at both of them, whispering to each other in their own language in low, dangerous tones. They hung around in the shady corners between buildings, gesturing to each other. There was an unsettling air of hostility hanging around them that made Chris feel distinctly uneasy.
"Sounds good to me" He replied. He opened the Jeep's trunk and grabbed his pack. It was a basic backpack containing everything he'd need for a small camp, including a bedroll. He quickly shouldered it, wondering why Leon didn't have a similar set up.
"I'm supposed to be meeting a contact from the West African BSAA around here," Chris added, rummaging in the pocket of his combats for his PDA. He tapped a few buttons, looking for the right memo. "There should be a butcher's in this village. That's where they'll be. They'll be giving me a basic load-out but I'm not sure if they'll be any surplus for you" He said.
"Don't worry about it" Leon replied. "I've got a couple of useful items concealed," He muttered. Chris looked him up and down, wondering where the hell he had the aforementioned 'useful items' concealed. He figured that it was probably better not to ask. The two of them set off, keeping an eye out for the butcher's shop. Leon didn't say as much but Chris figured they were both thinking the same thing about the impossibility of asking the locals for directions. It was a little odd to be back with him but definitely not unpleasant. He wondered if Leon felt the same. As quickly as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about his relationship, or lack thereof, with Leon. This was all about Jill.
They walked onwards; passing various stalls and huts, most of the signage written in what was presumably the native language. Chris grimaced as he stepped over the rotting corpse of a dead goat; a small army of flies buzzing round it. His pack was heavy on his back and his skin was becoming slippery with sweat. The BSAA uniform was designed to allow skin to breathe as much as possible but it didn't seem to be able to stand up to the African heat. As they approached what appeared to be a linen stall, they saw a group of three young men kicking a large burlap sack between them. The sack was long and slim and looked like it could easily a house a person. The men were kicking it viciously, putting all their power into each kick. They were shouting to each other enthusiastically as the sack started twitching and writhing. For a brief moment Chris considered that it could well be Jill in the sack before quickly admonishing himself. He supposed that he'd gotten a little crazy in his searches and although it had been tempting to go back to the drink he knew he needed to keep a clear head if he was ever going to find his friend. He and Leon walked past the trio, trying hard not to look, a silent agreement passing between them that at this stage, it was best to avoid any conflict and confrontation. Chris however, couldn't help but flinch as one of the men suddenly took a hatchet from the back of his ragged trousers and slammed it violently into the sack. Almost immediately the movement within the sack stopped. As if on cue, the three men raised their heads and unashamedly began to eyeball both of them, their stares almost a warning.
They hurried onwards, Chris wondering if Leon felt as uneasy as he did right now. The younger man certainly didn't look it, probably something to do with his intensive training as a Secret Service agent. Chris found it strange that after returning to America, he found himself actually missing Leon quite a bit. There were times on his searches for Jill that he'd really wished Leon had been there at his side if only to make the whole journey less lonely. They'd swapped contact details before Chris had left Spain but hadn't really had that much contact apart from the odd e-mail. Despite the nightmarish circumstances of their reunion, Chris was actually glad to see him.
"I think we've found your meeting point" Leon's voice dragged him away from his thoughts. The younger man was pointing towards a building just ahead of them that had various meats hanging from steel hooks in the dirty window.
"There should be a side door" Chris replied as they walked towards it. A few minutes ago Chris could've murdered a nice thick steak but the sight of the dubious looking meat had put him off completely. They walked down the side of the building, sticking close to the whitewashed wall. Some of the paint had peeled away revealing a yellow sandstone core underneath. More disconcertingly were the reddish streaks across it that were either paint or dried blood. The side door itself had also seen better days. Made of heavily scratched steel, it was painted red and when Chris laid a hand on it, it was burning hot. He hissed in pain and Leon sighed heavily before pushing it open with his shoulder. It opened slowly with a loud creak, drawing suspicious looks from some of the villagers that were loitering nearby.
The room inside was, at least, shady. That however was the only positive thing, which Chris could draw from stepping inside. They were assaulted by a pungent rotting smell mixed in with faeces and, judging by the stains on the stone floor, had obviously been used as some sort of holding area come abattoir for the butcher's. There was a large stone table in the middle of the room with a large, rusted butcher's knife lying atop it. Dried blood was streaked across the table top with rivulets that had run down the sides. The walls were lined with a series of rickety looking wooden cupboards and in the nearest corner was a large hefty looking post with a thick rope coiled around it, obviously for tying down the animals that were to be slaughtered. In the back corner of the room, looking somewhat out of place amongst the old furnishings was a walk in fridge. It had been left open by the last occupant and had obviously been allowed to defrost, judging by the disgusting smell that was emanating from it. Chris could hear the distinctive buzzing of a swarm of flies coming from inside of it and hoped that he wouldn't have to find out what it was that they were feasting on. There was a small cough and it was then that Chris noticed a woman leaning against a low shelving unit, a short distance away from the fridge. She was tall and lean, her midnight black hair tied into a neat ponytail. She was dressed in tight tan coloured trousers and a purple vest. Long, brown leather gloves adorned her hands and arms, stopping just before her elbows. They matched the brown leather boots that were on her feet. In the gloom, Chris could just make out a tribal tattoo on her right arm. She smiled at them, seemingly impervious to the smell coming from the fridge. Atop the shelving unit was a large metal attaché case. She smiled at the two of them.
"You get used to the smell." She spoke softly yet confidently in a South African accent.
"I sincerely hope not," Leon replied as they approached her. He held out his hand and nodded at her. "Leon Kennedy. I'm tagging along with Chris here."
"Sheva Alomar." The woman said as she shook Leon's hand. She turned to shake Chris' "And you must be Chris Redfield, North American branch," She smiled curtly and continued. "I have your weapons," She nodded towards the attaché case that appeared to be locked with a combination lock. "You can't be too careful around here. Although I'm sure you've worked that out already. The combination is 2236."
Leon smirked at this but didn't explain why. Chris fiddled with the lock and opened the case to reveal an array of weapons packed into black Styrofoam inserts. Chris dumped his pack before pulling out a gun belt and tossed the spare to Leon who caught it with ease. The case contained the BSAA standard issue 9mm handgun and four clips as well as a shotgun and 12 extra shells. There was also an upper body harness to hold the shotgun and some grenades, which were also in the case. He clipped a radio onto his left shoulder and clipped a wireless blue tooth headset complete with mic into his ear. He turned to face Leon who had strapped the spare gun belt around his waist and was in the process of pulling a thigh holster out of one of the pockets of his combats. He strapped it on and holstered his handgun into it before holstering a magnum around his waist. Chris noted with interest that it was the same magnum he'd had back in Spain.
"Forty magnum rounds and fifty for the handgun." Leon said, loading up the pouches on his belt from his pockets. Chris opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a tinny crackling from Sheva's radio. She cursed in her native tongue and withdrew something from the pocket of her trousers.
"I've marked out a route on this map of the local area," She explained, handing Chris the map. "It leads to a safe house where we can meet up" She fiddled with her radio. "I'd like to escort you but I need to move ahead quickly. Alpha Team were supposed to be radioing from Checkpoint A but they're twenty minutes overdue." She made for the door.
"Wait"! Leon called out. "If you think something's gone wrong we should go with you," He added firmly. He looked over at Chris who nodded in agreement. Sheva however, was already shaking her head.
"You'll only slow me down." She replied adamantly. Without waiting for further arguments from either man, she ran off. Leon snorted as the steel door slammed shut behind her.
"Women…" He muttered. "So how far are we away from this safe house"?
"It's just through the village," Chris replied, studying the hastily drawn map in his hands. "Shouldn't take us too long to get there if we head straight through the main village area."
"Probably not such a great idea." Leon said, pointing towards the window. Chris peered through the smeared glass and saw that a large crowd of villagers had begun to gather around what looked like a wooden stage just a short distance away from the butchery. The crowd seemed roused and excitable, chattering and chanting away and occasionally letting out a cheer. Chris watched with unease as a villager dressed in jeans and checked shirt strutted onto the stage. He was wearing dark sunglasses and carrying a battered megaphone. Leon joined him by the window as the villager raised the megaphone to his lips and started to shout into it. The cheering and chanting grew louder and louder and eventually reached a crescendo as an abnormally large man wandered onto the stage. He was dressed in long black and brown robes that looked hastily stitched together. He was slightly stooped with an almost hump-like protrusion on his back. A black burlap sack covered his head and, more frighteningly, he was carrying a huge axe, the tip of which was crusted with dried blood. Chris watched with horror as two more villagers joined the stage holding tightly onto a struggling Sheva. She was screaming at the men, presumably pleading with them to release her. Chris' fingers curled around the handgun on his gun belt. He moved away from the window and before he could reach the door, a hand clamped down hard on his left shoulder.
"Don't be so stupid" Leon said harshly. "You'll get yourself killed! There's too many of them."
Chris shrugged Leon's hand off easily, shaking his head.
"I can't just let them kill her"! He shot back. He glared at Leon, daring the younger man to keep arguing. Since his increase in size and muscle mass, Chris had found that people were willing to argue with him less and less. Leon however looked back at him calmly. It appeared that he would dare.
"You're going to have to," He replied coolly. "There's nothing we can do. If you go out there guns blazing we'll be outnumbered before we know it. Would you just think for a change? You're not going to be much use to Jill if you're dead"!
Chris knew Leon had a point. There were far too many villagers out there for them to even try and take on. They'd run out of ammo when they were halfway through and then they'd be screwed. The calm look on Leon's face seemed to have a calming effect on Chris too. He hated the idea of standing by and letting Sheva die but they had no other option. They continued to stare at each other, as the crowd grew silent before the air was filled with a horrible, blood-curdling scream, which Chris sincerely hoped he would never have to hear again. If Leon was affected by the scream and the obvious meaning behind it, he didn't show it. He continued to stare levelly at Chris with barely a flicker of emotion. A few seconds passed before he spoke.
"We need to get moving."
Chris nodded and the two of them quickly located a back door that appeared to lead to a side street. The crowd in the square didn't seem to be a hurry to disperse so it looked like they were going to have a take a longer route and stick to the shadows. They readied their guns and stepped out into the street, ready for anything that might try to spring an attack on them.
"I don't know how you do it," Chris said quietly as they made their way down the narrow street. "Show no emotion like that." He explained. He could hear the chatter of the crowd and couldn't work out whether it was getting louder or not.
"You have to." Leon replied, leaning against a hut as they came up to a corner. He nodded at Chris to go first. As Chris stepped round the corner, Leon covered him. Finding no one down the next street, they continued on. "Doesn't mean I don't care."
Chris was about to reply when a metallic rattling cut him off. There was a woman standing the other side of the barbed wire fence at the bottom of the street. Just to the left of the fence was a door but apart from that, it seemed like they'd come to a dead end. As soon as the woman saw them she let out a loud cry. She took an inhuman leap and clung onto the barbed wire fence. As she climbed it and went over the top, the barbs from the wire tore into her legs. She didn't seem to notice as the tears started to bleed. She jumped from the top and landed a few feet away.
"Shit." Leon cursed as she started to advance on them. Chris could hear shouts and calls, obviously in a response to her cry. The woman started to draw a hatchet from a sack tied around her waist but before she could get it out Leon fired one well-aimed magnum shot that hit her directly in the forehead. With one final cry, she dropped to the dusty ground, convulsing for a few seconds before she finally lay still.
"More are gonna come." Chris said, looking for a possible escape. They could go for the door but there was no guarantee it wasn't another dead end. Climbing over the fence was also an option but he didn't fancy ripping his own legs to shreds on the barbed wire.
"We're going to have to go back." Leon replied, almost as if he was reading Chris' mind. Chris' radio suddenly crackled into life almost making him a jump. He fiddled with the tuning knob until the voice came through clearer.
"Redfield, Redfield do you copy"? An unfamiliar voice demanded.
"Redfield receiving. Pass your message." Chris replied into his headset. Leon was watching him hopefully. It was about time they came across a little luck. The radio crackled for a few more seconds before the voice came back, loud and clear.
"This is Kirk from Alpha Team. We'll be at your location in fifteen minutes. Hold up at the base over."
"Received," Chris answered. "It appears the locals are hostile."
"Do what you need to do until we get there. We're bringing in a chopper." Kirk replied before the radio cut out. Chris glanced at Leon who was looking over his shoulder. The voices of the villagers were getting closer. They need to move.
"Maybe we should hole up in the butcher's" Chris suggested as they ran back down the street back towards the main square. "We'll stand a better chance of watching all our directions that way."
"Sounds good to me." Leon said, picking up his pace a little. They ran for the butcher's shop, looking out for villagers as they went. They reached the steel door quickly and Leon wrenched it open before hurrying inside. Chris was about to follow suit when something suddenly yanked him backwards by the cord of his pack. Without turning round to see what it was, he quickly shrugged his shoulders out of the straps and ran for the door, slamming it closed behind him. Leon helped him push one of the wooden shelving units up against it. They turned to regard each other, slightly breathless from their quick run.
"So is this your thing then"? Leon asked with a slight smirk in spite of the situation. "Losing your bags"?
"What the hell are you talking about"? Chris looked at the younger man with confusion. He wasn't entirely used to this more chilled out Leon. He was always waiting for him to make some kind of acidic comment or give him a snotty look like he had when they'd worked together in Spain. Obviously it was an improvement but still, ever so slightly unnerving.
"Well you lost your bag in Spain didn't you"? He pointed out as he calmly shifted another one of the wooden cabinets so that it was blocking a window. Chris rolled his eyes at his partner.
"God, do you remember everything"? He asked wearily. Leon merely snorted at him. The two of them moved into one of the corners, giving them as much of a view of the room as possible. They could hear footsteps outside and whispered voices as well as shouts from further away. Leon's little joke had eased the tension a little but now it had come back even worse than before. It took Chris back to the nightmare in the Spencer Mansion, wandering down those seemingly endless corridors and hallways, not knowing what you were going to find behind the next door or what might be chasing you in the shadows. He wondered if Leon was having similar flashbacks to running through the infected city.
A heavy pounding on the door made them both raise their guns. The voices grew louder and louder as more and more of the villagers cottoned on to their location. The butchery had become stiflingly hot now and Chris could feel the sweat trickling down his back. He hated this waiting. He was always so proactive and it felt like he was almost hiding away like some scared kid. He knew he couldn't just run out there and open fire but he hated it all the same. There was a sudden creaking noise followed by the wooden cabinet breaking into pieces as the steel door was rammed open. Three villagers spilled in through the now open doorway, hatchets and knives raised, ready to strike. Less than a second later, one of them was on the floor, taken down with a quick headshot from Leon's handgun. Chris followed suit, flooring the other two. Their weapons clattered to the ground but were picked up instantly by more villagers who scurried through the door. These were different to the slow, lumbering zombies that Chris was used to. It was like they were entirely human…just…possessed.
"Shit"! He heard Leon's cry as the window smashed and more of them poured in from the opposite side. Wordlessly, the two of them took a different direction, Chris dealing with the guys at the door, Leon dealing with the ones at the window. Chris ears hummed with the constant sound of gunfire as the villagers screamed in pain before dropping like flies.
"Makes you miss zombies huh."? He called out as Leon dodged a wine bottle aimed at his head, taking the attacker down with another well-aimed bullet. "They're not acting like any zombies I've ever seen," He added.
"Cover me, I need to reload"! Leon ordered as he felled two more of the creatures. Chris turned his attention to the window as Leon slapped another clip in his handgun. The horde showed no signs of slowing down. More and more of them kept running into the room, their shouts becoming louder and more intense. Leon narrowly missed taking a wine bottle to the head and Chris nearly felt a woman's hatchet in his chest. The marauding villagers kept on coming, seemingly in endless waves, and now they were having to climb over the piles of fallen attackers that lay in front of them to get to their victims. Leon absently noted that they showed no regard for each other as one sandled foot was planted on the dead face of another, who had dropped only moments before, as if it were a stepping-stone.
A loud crash echoed throughout the small room. Both men were showered in brick dust and dirt as one of the walls collapsed in front of their very eyes. The villagers stopped in their tracks as the axe-wielding giant stood in the gap where the wall had just been mere seconds ago. Now they were up close and personal, Chris could see how terrifying it looked. He was a clear two feet taller than either of them with thick limbs and an even thicker torso. An executioner's black hood was hiding his head and face and he was wearing a ragged grey leather apron. The most disconcerting thing about him was the hordes of thick nails that seemed to be stuck into the top half of his body. The axe he was carrying looked just as mean, a thick wooden handle ending in a large, block shaped axe with rusty chains hanging from the end. It was smeared with a garish mixture of dried and flesh blood. Chris felt a new wave of nausea hit his stomach when he realised whom that fresh blood had once belonged to.
"Move"! Leon shouted as the Executioner raised its fearsome weapon. Chris felt Leon grab hold of his shoulder and pull him towards the door. Chris snapped into action quickly, taking down the villagers that blocked their way out of the building. They ran quickly into the street that was strangely quiet after all the hectic activity back in the butcher's. They heard an earth shattering clunk as the axe obviously hit the floor of the building. "This way"! Leon commanded, pointing towards the main square. It made sense to take advantage of the sudden quietness and take the quickest route out of the village. According to Sheva's map, they need to leave the village via some large, grey steel gates. Chris could seem them in the distance, looming towards them promisingly as they ran. He could hear the villagers once more as they frantically searched for them. There was one of them standing near the gates on the roof of a nearby building. He had a megaphone in his hands and as he spotted them, raised it to his lips.
"Oh no you don't asshat"! Chris raised his handgun and, with the skills that made him the highest ranked marksman in S.T.A.R.S, took the guy out with a headshot.
"Impressive" Leon said, somewhat breathlessly. "Think you can get those gates open"?
"Of course I can!" Chris replied simply. Which was true, he could get those gates open, he just needed to work out how exactly. It looked like they were the sort that slid open. Chris grabbed the large metal handle on the side of the gate and started to pull with all his might. When the gates refused to shift he turned round to Leon and nodded in what he hoped was an official and professional looking manner. "Yeah, they're locked." He said with no trace of embarrassment or sheepishness. He stood instead with his hands on his hips, appearing, hopefully at least, to be in charge of assessing the situation.
"Leave that to us guys!" Chris' radio crackled to life once more and Kirk's cheerful voice came through. In the midst of the attack and the subsequent quick escape, Chris had failed to hear the distant sounds of a chopper approaching them. Turning his attentions to the sky he could see the black blur moving towards them quickly.
"Right on time" Chris replied. "Looks like the locals are a bunch of asshats who don't take kindly to us being here." He grinned at Leon who rolled his eyes. The younger man was keeping his gun raised at all times, on his guard for any stray villagers that might've worked out their location.
"Take cover guys, gonna be a big one"! Kirk answered.
"Don't even say it Christopher." Leon said before Chris could open his mouth. Grabbing hold of him once more, Leon pulled Chris into a small stone building that looked like it had been used as a storage room. There were a few wooden crates inside as well as an old, cracked, stone trough, full of fetid water. They crouched inside and waited for the inevitable explosion as the chopper blasted the gates open.
"I've just worked out what you are," Chris said as they crouched, shoulder to shoulder in the confined space. "Claire always used to say that two people in a partnership fall into two separate roles. The silly one and the police officer. The silly one does all the cool stuff like beating up the bad guys and says the awesome one-liners whilst still having a sense of humour whereas the police officer is all serious and careful and tells the silly one off. And you know what else? It works out great because you used to BE a police officer"! Chris grinned triumphantly, feeling like he'd just hit the nail right on the head. He'd always thought his sister's people theories were bullshit so it was actually quite funny to see one of them actually working out. Leon didn't seem to think so.
"Only for one day" Leon corrected him. "And I have to be the serious one otherwise we'd be dead."
"Yeah but still. Police officer" Chris reiterated as if that settled the argument. He smirked smugly and barely jumped when a small explosion caused the ground beneath them to tremble slightly.
"All clear guys." Kirk's voice returned. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous. Stay safe."
As Chris and Leon came out of the stone building they saw the chopper disappearing into the distance. The steel gates were now a warped and twisted mass of metal, the ground around them smoking. There were no signs of any villagers. If any had been around they'd probably been scared away by the explosion. Chris breathed a huge sigh of relief and consulted the map.
"There's an industrial area about a mile away which is near a waterfront," He said, speaking more to himself as he thought it through. Leon however, was nodding and tapping away at his PDA.
"Sounds about right" He replied. "Our intelligence believes that Wesker has a facility that's a few miles up the river past some ancient ruins. We'll need a boat to get up there so the waterfront would be a good place to start"
"Let's go then" Chris folded the map away. "Partner"!
"Not that again…"
END OF CHAPTER ONE!