A Star's Descent

By evolution-500

Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.

NOTE: HUGE thanks to NaiveWriter (aka Multifreak on Deviantart) for creating a real kick-ass cover. Thank you! :)

Chapter Fourteen: Exploration

Tick tick tick tick.

Rebecca winced as she tried blocking out the incessant clicks of the typewriter keys. Adjusting her position on the wall near the front doors, she looked over to Star.

"Are you almost finished?"

"Just a few more sentences," the albino replied.

Forest scowled.

"For Christ's sake, what are you writing?!" he demanded. "We don't have the time for an autobiography."

To Star's credit, he maintained his composure and kept on typing.

Looking over to Forest by the foot of the stairs, she watched as he paced about, stopping every now and then to check and recheck his weapon in an annoyingly repetitive manner. When he turned toward the stairs and looked upward, his body froze and stiffened.

Raising her eyes curiously to the balcony on the second floor, Rebecca squinted, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary.

Had he seen something, perhaps someone move up there?

She opened to ask "What's wrong?", but stopped when there came a loud rip, drawing the Bravos' attention back down to the floor they were on. Turning to the source, Rebecca watched as Star tore the paper out from the typewriter.

"Finished," he called out.

"Finally!" Forest exclaimed.

"So what did you write?" Rebecca piped up.

Moving toward her, Star kneeled down and held the page out in offering. Taking it from his gloved hand, she started to read.

"It's basically a crude summation of what we were experiencing. I would have written more, but as you can see the ink ribbon hardly had enough to allow for it," the albino explained, eying her with concern, "How are you feeling?"

Rebecca gave a slight smile.

"Better. Thank you for asking," she said as she gave the page back.

"Are you able to walk?"

"I can manage," Rebecca assured.

Giving her a nod, the albino straightened himself, slipping the lush red coat and hood back on. Looking over to Forest, Rebecca stared questioningly.

"So, what now?"

"Let's start with the front doors here," he replied.

Turning to look at the ones he had been indicating, Rebecca shook her head.

"We can't, look at it."

On both sides of said-doors, a pair of knight sculptures had their swords crossed over them, effectively blocking the entrance.

"How do we get past that?" Rebecca pointed.

"It's not that complicated, rookie," Forest drawled as he moved toward the swords.

Slipping one of his gloved hands onto the other side of one of the blades, he gave a loud grunt of exertion. Turning around, he eyed Star.

"Hey Pasty, help me out here!" he demanded.

Rebecca tensed as the albino's eyes narrowed underneath his hood.

"Don't call me that," he said in a low voice.

"Just get your ass over here and help me!"

Without saying a word, Star did as he was instructed, followed by Rebecca.

'Might as well make myself useful,' Rebecca thought as she took up a position behind Forest.

"Okay, on a count of three. One, two, THREE!"

The survivors grunted and groaned as they pushed upward.

Nothing.

Even with her added strength, it made no difference.

"Alright, let's try it from different angles," Forest suggested.

The trio tugged and pushed from various sorts of positions for ten minutes, but no matter the effort, the swords remained in place. Backing away in defeat, Rebecca panted as she rubbed at her sore arms and hands.

"If only we had some C4," Forest muttered.

"Couldn't you use those grenades?" Star asked.

The weapon specialist scoffed.

"If I had a grenade launcher," came the dismissive reply, his voice laced with contempt.

"But couldn't you use the grenades on their own, maybe use something to trigger them? Like the way the fire had affected the leftover ammunition on that train-"

"I ain't fuckin' MacGuyver, dickhead!" Forest snapped, causing him and Rebecca to flinch, "Besides, I lost my lighter."

Rebecca eyed the swords.

"Do you think we can shoot them off?" she wondered, "Maybe if we shoot the grenades we could trigger an explosion-"

"Like. Hell. I ain't sacrificin' my ammo. You want to waste your bullets on these sculptures, be my guest."

"She was only asking a question," Star said irritably.

"I wasn't talking to you, freak."

The albino narrowed his eyes angrily, his mouth pressing into a tight line, the leather of his gloves becoming audibly taut against his knuckles as they tightened into fists. He took a step forward, causing Rebecca to step between them.

"Wait, wait! Star don't!" Rebecca said, raising her arms, attempting to placate him.

Glancing down to her, then back to her coworker, Rebecca watched as the anger changed into a look of hurt. Lowering his head so that the hood covered his eyes, he spoke in a quiet and strained voice, "That was completely uncalled for."

"Spare the lecture on civility for someone that cares, I ain't in the mood. Let's pick a door and find the mechanism to get this bastard open!" Forest growled as he started moving towards the single door at the left of the staircase. Turning around, he looked at them expectantly. "Well? You two comin' or what?"

Without even saying a word, the albino went back to collect his suitcases when Rebecca touched his arm.

"Leave them here, you'll strain your back otherwise," she said.

Staring at her for a moment, Star gave a slight nod before turning toward the door.

Following after them, Rebecca waited as the door creaked loudly open, revealing complete and total blackness.

Flicking the light on their sidearms, the Bravos raised their weapons as they entered. One by one, the trio slipped into the dark, closing the door behind.

* * * * *

William Birkin smacked at the monitor.

"Come on, work!" He demanded.

His companion sat comfortably beside him.

"Piece of shit, work dammit!" Birkin roared as he gave one hard slap to the hard drive.

To his joy, the monitors flickered back to life.

* * * * *

Back in the hallway, Rebecca and the others whipped around in confusion as a lamp lit up.

* * * * *

Birkin proudly clapped his hands together.

"Ha ha! YES! What did I tell you, Al? Did I fix it or did I fix it?!"

"Yes, you did. You managed to turn on a computer switch," his companion said in a low sarcastic voice, pressing into the microphone repeatedly. "Communications are still down."

"We have another problem," Birkin said, pointing to the screen. "Who are those two with the girl?"

"I recognize him. Another S.T.A.R.S. member. The other one I don't know."

"Look at the size of him. He must be as tall as one of our specimens!"

The blonde man stared at the monitor, ignoring his comment.

* * * * *

Rebecca had no idea whether to be thankful or perturbed by the light's sudden glare. On the one hand, she was thankful for being able to see where she was going. On the other hand, though, she was in an Umbrella Research Facility, meaning that there were probably any number of security devices or...traps...

She stopped.

Had they unknowingly activated a trap?

"W-wait!" she stuttered, causing the others to turn back and stare at her.

"What?" Forest demanded.

"I think...I think we need to go back."

"Oh God," Forest rolled his eyes, "don't tell me that you're too chicken to-"

"I think we're heading into a trap."

The two men stiffened upon hearing that.

"What makes you so sure?" Star asked.

"It's just...the light. Isn't it a little too convenient that the moment we entered that it just suddenly came on?"

Forest folded his arms together.

"So what do you suggest we do?"

Rebecca opened her mouth, but the will to speak left her. For the first time since arriving, she was scared stiff.

"Well, we're waiting!"

The medic looked down in defeat.

"Never mind," she said quietly.

Letting out a scoff, she watched as Forest looked away from her and disappeared around the corner. She heard a loud creak, followed by fading footsteps.

'How pathetic,' she thought disdainfully.

"Are you alright?"

Looking up, she saw Star eying her with concern.

"I said are you alright?" Star repeated.

Rebecca nodded.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied. Moving past him, Rebecca followed after Forest, too embarrassed and ashamed of herself to meet Star's gaze. "Come on."

* * * * *

When the door creaked open, the hairs on the back of Rebecca's neck stood on end, and her nose wrinkled as a cold rancid blast of air hit her in the face. Backing away with a slight gasp, she clasped her hand around her nostrils, trying not to vomit from the awful smell. Stepping back into the hallway outside, Rebecca took a couple of breaths.

"Just give me a second," she said to Star just when he was about to speak.

After drawing a couple of slow breaths, Rebecca gave a nod.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to go back in."

Straightening herself, Rebecca held her breath as she opened the door again. Greeting her was the dimly lit interior of a men's restroom, but it was in complete disrepair and looked like it hadn't been used in years.

'And based on the smell, I'm guessing that the plumbing is busted. Either that or it's flooded,' she thought sickly.

Shuddering at the idea, Rebecca looked over to a long mirror to her left. Looming over a filthy counter with a couple of sinks of equally disreputable quality, part of the room was captured in its reflection. What surprised her the most, though, was how different the girl in the mirror looked at this exact moment compared to when she had been back at home; when she had left, she wore makeup and lipstick. Greeting her in the mirror now was a parody of that person; her clothes wrinkled and stained, Rebecca saw the eyes and face of a terrified child with a bandage wrapped around her forehead.

So much for trying to make a good impression.

Letting her gaze drift away, Rebecca saw a series of urinals ahead of her, some of them missing pipes and having cracks on parts of the porcelain. On the walls and on parts of the missing-tiled floor not covered by the elegant red carpet, all manner of grunge could be found, be it molds or spiderwebs.

"How long do you think this place has been around for?" Star asked.

Rebecca glanced over in his direction, but his face was unreadable. Was he trying to cast off suspicion?

"I don't know," she replied, placing a hand on her chin, "I wonder who built this place."

"Do you think the builders could be found back in town?"

"Unlikely," Forest spoke up.

Upon hearing that, the albino stopped his questioning, looking around with discomfort.

Glancing around, Rebecca cringed.

What else was Umbrella hiding?

There were secrets within these cracked walls, all right - it felt as if the walls themselves were ready at any moment to give way in the same manner that a swollen whitehead would at the slightest touch.

"How long do you think this place has been abandoned for?" Star wondered aloud, finding his voice again.

"It's hard to say," Rebecca replied. "Months, years perhaps."

The ancient and filthy tiles cracking under each step, Rebecca saw Forest's form stiffen as he neared the mirror's edge.

"Forest what-"

"Shh!" The weapons specialist hissed, pointing to his ear.

At first, Rebecca wondered what had him spooked, but when she stopped to listen, she heard it.

Squeak, squeaaak. Squeak, squeaaak.

Could it be a survivor?

Raising his sidearm, Forest moved around the corner to the right, followed by Rebecca.

Squeak, squeaaak. Squeak, squeaaak.

Sided along the far wall were four washroom stalls, their doors constantly shifting, causing them to creak each time they moved.

'That was it?' Rebecca puzzled.

One by one the stall doors were opened. By the time she pushed open the final door, a feeling of both relief and disappointment crossed her features. The place was completely empty. Nothing could be found, save for broken toilets.

"Looks like someone tried to make camp here or somethin'," Forest said from beside her.

"What makes you say that?" Rebecca asked.

The weapons specialist pointed to something on the floor in front of the stalls.

"See that?"

Looking to where he was pointing, Rebecca saw a couple of empty bottles, along with a red gas can. She shifted uncomfortably.

How could she have missed them?

She watched as Forest bent down onto one knee and picked up one of the bottles. Placing his nose over the bottle's opening, he gave it one sniff before placing it back down.

"Nothin'. Whoever set up camp here is long gone," he commented.

Twisting around, the Bravos had taken no more than a few steps toward the mirror's edge when Rebecca saw something in the mirror, sloshing behind the unsuspecting Star.

"BEHIND YOU!" she cried out.

Turning around, the albino jerked back as long whip-like arms wrapped around his throat. Struggling underneath the thing's grip, the albino wriggled around, trying to get loose as she and Forest took aim. Just as she was going to press down on the trigger, the thing's featureless head started to mold itself, like plasticine in the hands of a skilled sculptor, to form a vague outline of a face.

"Wha-"

She was cut off as Forest fired off several rounds into the thing's head, causing it to stumble and let go of its prey by the fifth shot.

"LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Forest roared.

No sooner had the words left his mouth that everyone bolted for the door, just right when the thing cracked its neck back into place. The moment they entered the hallway again, Star slammed the door behind them when Forest gave a startled yell as he attempted to get back to the mansion entrance.

"Not this way! Not this way!" He cried.

Rebecca opened her mouth to ask why when she caught sight of a second rubbery monstrosity blocking the entrance, heading straight for them! Twisting around, her heart beating hard within her ears, Rebecca turned to her left and continued down the hallway toward a moonlit window when she caught sight of movement.

"FOREST, LOOK OUT!" She cried as she raised her sidearm.

BLAM!

The startled discharge from her weapon shattered the glass, causing her coworker to stagger back in surprise.

"IDIOT! THAT WAS A REFLECTION!" He shouted to her as they rounded the corner to their right again toward a door.

Rebecca had no time to reflect on her mistake; she was more focused on the thing lurching behind them.

"Oh no, not now!"

"What?" Rebecca asked.

"The fucking door's locked!" Forest said tensely.

Turning around, Rebecca fired at the rubbery hellspawn. Round after round penetrated its strange hide, but the creature wobbled undeterred toward them with a clumsy and floppy gait, closing the distance between them. It was now ten feet away.

The door rattled as Forest repeatedly slammed into it with his shoulder.

Nine feet.

"FOREST!"

"GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!" The weapons specialist said as he and the albino slammed into the wooden frame repeatedly.

Eight feet.

Rebecca could see the thing's torso wobbling about unsteadily, reminding her of those inflatable clowns from those air-filled bounce houses at carnivals.

"OPEN, MOTHERFUCKER!" Forest demanded before shooting at it.

Seven feet.

Rebecca had just used up the last of her ammunition.

"I-I'm out."

"So am I," Forest said darkly.

Upon hearing that, the albino closed his eyes and exhaled through his nostrils as he removed the swords from the scabbard on his leg.

"What are you doing?!" Rebecca asked.

Saying nothing, he raised his swords and started to lower himself into a fighting position.

"WAIT! STOP! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" she demanded angrily, grabbing him by the arm. Pulling it away, he gave her a cold look before lifting his eyes back to his opponent.

When the creature took a step forward, the albino let out a sharp yell as he charged forward with frightening speed and slammed both fist guards into its chest, causing it to stumble back.

"NOW!" Forest shouted.

The Bravos took advantage of its lack of balance, running around it as it tried to readjust its footing. Rebecca's feet practically flew off from the carpet as she and the others rounded the corners back to where they came. The moment the doors to the mansion foyer opened, they wasted no time slipping through.

"BLOCK THE DOORS!" Forest ordered.

The trio moved in different directions, grabbing whatever they could find as the thing pounded on the wood. Chairs were stacked, cabinets were moved, even paintings were pulled straight from the walls themselves to be lined up against the door frame. Pushing themselves against the door, they waited until the pounding ceased. Rebecca's heart thundered against her rib cage, her face damp with perspiration as she looked to the others. After ten whole minutes of silence, they pulled away.

Turning to face Star, Rebecca narrowed her eyes.

"What were you thinking pulling a stunt like that?!" she reprimanded.

"I don't see why you should be angry with me, Officer Chambers," he said calmly.

"I have plenty of reasons for being so - you could have gotten yourself killed!"

"It was necessary."

"Why?!"

The albino remained silent for a moment. When he spoke, what he said took Rebecca and Forest by surprise,

"To give you two a chance."

Hearing the genuineness of his words, Rebecca lessened her glare.

"What if you had been killed?" she asked in a calmer tone.

"It wouldn't have mattered."

"What do you mean by that?!" Rebecca demanded.

The red-clad figure gave an annoyed, indignant huff.

"Do I really need to explain myself?"

"It would be a start!" she retorted.

The albino narrowed his eyes, making the medic shrink.

"To quote you back on the train when we first met, my reasons are my own," he replied with a slight edge in his tone before turning away.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm going to check the other rooms," the albino explained.

"On your own?" she said doubtfully.

"I think it would be for the best - it will minimize the amount of time we spend searching throughout this place."

"People who say that in horror movies usually die off just moments after saying so," Forest replied.

Star narrowed his eyes upon hearing the callous comment.

"Well, I'm glad to know that one of us is taking this lightly," he said with a hint of sarcasm before softening his gaze, "I pray that you and the others will get out alive."

After he collected his bags, the albino turned around and headed toward the double doors on the opposite side of the room.

"Star!" Rebecca called out.

The doors' creaking called back in reply, followed by a click as they slid back into their frame.

"Let's go," Forest said as he turned toward the stairs.

"What about Star?" she asked, "We can't just leave him, he could get hurt or killed!"

"And pray tell, how would we able to defend ourselves?! We don't have any ammo, and I'm not in any mood to wrestle with the undead!" Forest snapped back.

Rebecca frowned.

"I wasn't going to suggest 'wrestling'. We don't have to fight them, not if we're smart about it and take steps-"

When Forest got to the landing, his figure froze.

Rebecca blinked.

"Forest?"

He didn't respond. Moving to where he stood, Rebecca saw him staring stiffly at the massive portrait in front of them.

"What's wrong?"

"I saw him," he whispered.

Rebecca furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Who?"

"Him! The creepy old fuck in the painting!"

"What?" she said with surprise. Looking over to the aged portrait, she scrutinized its contents.

Bordered by a dull brown frame with leafy decorations, the subject was an old man with strong patrician features - a wrinkled narrow face, a tight round jaw, a wide forehead with a receding silver hairline - dressed in an old-fashioned brown suit and yellow tie. Staring out at the viewer with a pair of cold gray eyes while in a three-quarter pose that indicated strength and integrity, an inscription was stenciled down at the bottom of the frame.

The first general manager, Dr. James Marcus.

"When did you see him?" Rebecca quietly asked.

"Back on the train, when I went to find Coen. He was there, just right before he became one of those rubbery fuckers!"

"Are you sure it was him?"

"It's hard to forget a face like that, especially when he started to mold himself from leeches."

Rebecca's eyes widened.

"He molded himself from leeches?" she parroted with disbelief.

"Yeah! I've never seen anything like it!"

Rebecca stared into his eyes, completely at a loss for words.

"What do you think?"

She frowned, crossing her arms.

"I don't know," she said.

"Come on, you must have somethin'!"

"I don't!"

"Aren't you supposed to be one of those brat geniuses? You must have some idea of what to make of this."

Rebecca glared at him, but held her tongue. Lowering her chin, she looked down thoughtfully. "As far as I know, leech behavior mainly consists of feeding, breeding, sitting, swimming, and...well, that's about it! Aside from mating, I don't think leeches even have a social dynamic! For a swarm to suddenly work together, to form a body like that, it would require not only communication, but also coordination, which indicates that there must be some form of swarm intelligence. What makes me especially nervous, though, is that they specifically chose a human frame. For the most part, humans and human blood aren't the typical food source. Usually they feed on small invertebrate animals that they would eat whole."

"So what, you think that the virus not only made them smarter but also that Umbrella-" Forest cut himself off, paling along with Rebecca at the various possibilities that came to mind yet were never voiced.

"I-I don't know, Forest," the medic said in a shaky voice. "Maybe I'm wrong in my assumptions, but I don't know."

It took a while for either person to find the strength to speak.

"But why take on his image?" Forest recovered.

Rebecca shrugged.

"As a lure, perhaps?"

"Could that mean it could impersonate us?"

The Bravo medic paled at the idea.

'Why did I even open my big fat mouth?!' she wondered before finding her voice, "I-I don't know, I hope not."

She turned around.

"Where are you going?" Forest demanded.

"I need to warn Star! He needs to know-"

"What makes you so sure that he's ignorant of this? Hell, the guy's probably not even human! Why would you wanna save him?"

Rebecca stopped.

"I don't know if he is or not, but Captain Marini ordered for me to keep an eye on him and find out what he knows. If he dies, we'll potentially lose the only witness that will be able to testify against Umbrella."

She let the words sink in. After a few minutes, he gave a nod.

"Alright, go on. I'll check the rooms up here. Be careful."

Nodding back, the medic descended back down and followed after the albino.

* * * * *

"KENNNNEEEEEEETH!"

"KENNETH?!"

"KENNETH!"

Enrico Marini frowned. Where the hell did Sullivan go?

After they dispatched the surviving undead from the train, Marini and company had tasked themselves with finding the lost Bravo.

Marini placed his hands together around his mouth, "KEEEENNNNNEEEEETH!"

The Bravo's name echoed repeated across the tunnel.

He heard a muffled groan.

"I think I found him!" he cried out.

Moving his feet as quickly as he could across the scattered debris, he ran to the source, only to find a crippled zombie, a teenager no older than fifteen wearing a shredded black BackStreet Boys t-shirt and jeans, devoid of limbs, writhing around like a worm.

He shook his head.

"False alarm," he said.

Raising his foot up, he stomped down onto its head, hearing a loud crunch under his boot. He kept stomping until the damned thing stopped its pitiful wriggling. When he finished, he pulled away and exhaled through his nostrils, his mouth tightening into a grimace.

"It's unnerving how easy it is to be indifferent to these things when you're killing them," Aiken said beside him, shaking his head.

Neither Marini nor Coen replied. In fact, the former himself had been thinking the exact same thing. Sure, he had done his fair share of killing as a Marine, but this was too fucked up, even for a hardened veteran like him. Part of him started to wonder what his family would think of him the moment he came back and told them all that he went through.

Should he?

He paused in his thoughts.

'No,' he decided. Family and misery are not company that should be kept in the same room, and the last thing either his wife and daughters needed to hear were horror stories of the most terrible variety.

"Do you think he's been crushed under the debris?" Aiken spoke up again.

"God, I hope not."

"Well, where else could he be?"

"Good question," Marini muttered.

Every accessible inch of this area had been checked and rechecked repeatedly for some sign of Kenneth.

"Could he be somewhere on the other side of these cars?" Coen asked.

The Bravo Captain grunted.

"Maybe."

It was possible that the din of the fire made it impossible for all to hear each others' cries, but there was no way of knowing for certain.

Moving toward the rear of the train, the trio had planned on checking the other side, but they stopped when they realized that most of cars have stacked up along the wall. Just when he was about to turn away, Coen stopped him.

"Wait."

Puzzled, he watched as the convict pointed to something that hung on the rear deck wall. Something that looked like a gun.

His feet trampled across the ruined concrete, hands eagerly reaching out to claim their prize. When he came closer, Marini squinted, taking in its design. In appearance, it looked like a harpoon gun. Black in color, it had a long sleek barrel with a cylinder attached halfway. From this cylinder, a long cord was extended and connected to a four-pronged hook at the end of the barrel. On the wall next to it was a pamphlet, outlining where and how to use it. Marini muttered to himself as he read it word per word.

"Why the fuck would anyone have that on a train?!" Aiken demanded.

"According to this, it's called a "hookshot". Used for connecting trains and for inspecting difficult-to-access car roofs," the Bravo Captain murmured.

"Bullshit!"

"That's what it says, Richard," he replied before taking hold of it. "I'm afraid we'll have to call off the search."

Aiken looked down with disapproval.

"I know, Richard, I know, but there's nothing more we can do now," Marini said.

There came a loud crack, causing the trio to turn toward the tunnel entrance.

"Let's get out of here, I don't want to spend a single minute more!"

As the survivors departed from the crash site, the tunnel flickered with flashes of pink light.

* * * * *

'Where has he gone?' Rebecca wondered with irritation.

For someone who was over seven feet, the albino was surprisingly spry and elusive.

Currently, she was standing atop of a long balcony made of soaked ashen gray dry stone. Lined with cracked and broken Doric columns, it overlooked a portion of the mountains and the vast forested landscape. Though the storm had ceased in its assault, Rebecca was still able to see in the dim moonlight that it was far from finished. Looking far out into the horizon, she stared with a mixture of longing and weariness.

How far were they from Raccoon City?

'And I had been so eager to leave that room,' she thought with distress.

When she had went through those double doors downstairs to follow after the albino with the intention of warning him, Rebecca found herself within a large dining hall. Greeting her were a pair of long tables with a series of fancy dishware laid out, but the disheveled arrangement of the tables, chairs, and dishes had told a story to her, a very bleak one. Whoever had been waiting for supper must have been caught by surprise. From the way the tables had been stacked together and positioned, it appeared that the people within this room must have been attempting to seal off the entrance.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened then. Part of her, though, was somewhat puzzled; despite there being clear evidence of the room having been occupied, no bodies could be found.

'Where did they disappear to?' she wondered.

While she had been somewhat relieved that there weren't any T-Virus infected cadavers that needed to be dealt with, there was something too unnerving about the room's emptiness; the fact that she was the only living thing within the room itself brought neither assurance nor comfort to the medic. Instead, it made her even more aware of how alone and vulnerable she was, so much so that after several attempts to muster up the courage to call out Star's name she lost the will to do so and fled into the next room - a large and spacious storage area filled with various boxes, paintings and a wall-mounted ladder, which she had used to get to where she was right now.

Seeing the forested vista, it added further to that feeling of vulnerability; it made her realize how small and insignificant she and the others were compared to what they're facing. Even if they managed to find a way out of the mansion, they would still need to navigate their way off the mountain. Who knows how long it would take to reach civilization!

Rebecca shivered involuntarily.

Navigation aside, there were factors that had to be taken into consideration, such as supplies. Not only would her team need plenty of ammunition, but also food, water, and first aid kits. However, part of Rebecca felt a certain level of skepticism; even if she and her team were prepared enough to make a two to three day trek back home, if not longer, there was no guarantee that they'll be able to make it that far. With the T-Virus running rampant, there's no telling how much of the area, let alone how much of the wildlife, has been infected.

'Even if we escape, what then?' she wondered.

Obviously the next step would be to take down Umbrella, but what about the T-Virus? How could it be contained? Can the State Health Department manage this on their own? Would the military have to be called in? These creatures were far too dangerous to be allowed into the city; there was no telling how many could become infected. Over a hundred thousand people lived within Raccoon City alone.

The medic squirmed at the idea of T-Virus hitting the streets. How would the US government handle a city full of undead? Would they be able to contain it? What if they're unable to?

Rebecca shuddered as some morbid part of her started to ponder something - what would the world look like if humanity became extinct? What would an undead-populated world look like?

She frowned.

'God, why would I even think of such a thing?' she thought with distaste.

Thoughts shifted over to Star. What would happen if he were to come back with them, assuming that he was infected? Would she have to kill Star in order to save a hundred thousand lives, if not more?

Her jaw tightened.

"No, don't think like that," she said to herself.

Pessimism wasn't needed, not now. People were relying on her.

Turning to her left, away from the moonlit scenery, Rebecca proceeded further down the balcony toward a closed door with a bolt lock. Moving closer, she saw that the bolt had been drawn back, a clear indicator that Star had been here.

Grabbing the door knob, she inhaled, then exhaled through her nostrils, mentally preparing herself, like one drawing a quick breath before taking the plunge into cold water, as it opened.