"Sorry," I said, suddenly feeling oddly uncomfortable under Claire's reproachful, accusing gaze.
"It's fine. I'll find a weapon somewhere later," she sighed with regret.
Looks like I'd have to share. Appreciate this—I'm giving it up straight from the heart!
"Here." I handed the girl my Steyr M-A1, making a truly titanic effort over myself. My faithful friend and beauty. I really was tearing it straight from my heart.
But if I hadn't given her anything at all, that would've been suspicious. The fact that I was practically draped in weapons was obvious even to the naked eye, and she, after the training her brother had given her, should have noticed that long ago. So I should have done this earlier—boost the trust level a little. But… greed is what it is.
"Thank you," Claire replied sincerely.
Hm. Or maybe she hadn't noticed? It was dark, and perhaps I may have overestimated her training. Or maybe someone here was just a little naive. No—more likely her trust in me was somewhat higher than I had subconsciously expected. I felt like a jerk, even though I was technically helping the girl. Sure, not selflessly—but I'm not an idiot.
"Let's go already," I said, breaking the awkward silence after her thanks.
Cain, go smash your head against a wall and pull yourself together. What are you even drifting off about? You're a monster—so act at least somewhat like one!
"Yes, just a second," the girl replied as she stood up.
A couple of minutes later we were already outside. It was pretty dark, still nighttime between the 16th and 17th, and clouds have gathered in the sky, so it may be somewhat uncomfortable for Claire. I might even have to cover for her.
But my concerns proved unnecessary. Apparently it wasn't that dark even for her. For me it didn't matter at all with my night vision. Honestly, I'd had to train myself just to distinguish day from night, shadow from light. That had been a real headache.
Maybe the still-burning car—yes, the one I'd passed only five or ten minutes ago—was providing enough illumination. Or maybe the weak lighting around the building itself helped. Either way, it didn't matter.
Walking along the fence toward the car, we turned and started down the road that curved around the vehicles in a big "U," skirting the cemetery.
Seriously, why couldn't they just build a straight path? Americans always have to complicate everything!
…There I go getting distracted again.
We had just begun moving forward more slowly—Claire was scanning the surroundings cautiously, and there was no point in me rushing ahead alone anymore—when the door of the burning car opened, and from inside climbed… fell… staggered out awkwardly?
Anyway, a zombie engulfed in flames appeared—formerly the driver. Beautiful. And a strange sense of déjà vu!
As if on cue, zombies began crawling up from the ground—more precisely, from the graves, though the difference wasn't particularly meaningful—and at that exact moment the full moon emerged from a break in the clouds.
Oh, that's just wonderful!
Couldn't you have crawled out later? Or better yet, not shown up at all?!
At this rate I'd soon start hating Umbrella's experiments on principle alone—even though technically I was just as much an experiment as they were.
"You know, I have this strange feeling I've seen something like this before," I drawled ironically. I simply couldn't resist the line.
"You're awfully calm," Claire replied in the same tone, though the pistol clenched in her hands betrayed her completely.
Yeah, girl. The nightmare's started again.
"You see, ordinary infected don't react to me," I said, forced to reveal that little detail. In this little shared adventure we were bound to run into situations like this again and again, so it was better to raise the trust level once more than to keep quiet and have her start asking uncomfortable questions—like why I'd hidden such a feature.
In response, I received a skeptical look. Which was immediately vindicated when a zombie that hadn't even fully crawled out of the ground yet grabbed my leg and sank its teeth into it, trying to bite through the skin.
Without success, of course—but still!
That clearly complicated things, especially for the girls. Though Yamata wasn't stupid—she'd cover the rookies whenever possible. And what were ordinary infected (or perhaps not entirely ordinary?) against HiF? A light warm-up, nothing more. On the other hand, I'd mutated more than once now. I'd technically come back to life and had been irradiated while inside Nemesis. Who knew whether they were supposed to react to me or not.
With interest I watched the stubborn zombie. Having lost its teeth—my skin turned out to be stronger than the rotten fangs of half-decayed flesh—it continued enthusiastically gnawing on my ankle.
"Get lost!"
With a single kick I sent the zombie's body flying toward the driver, tossing them both back into the burning car. Its head, unable to endure such abuse thanks to the neck giving out, separated from the body and flew off toward the prison.
"You know, not reacting and not being able to do anything are two different things," Claire quipped, trying to joke the tension away. Well, yeah. She knew perfectly well what kind of hell we were about to wade into again. Experience had taught her that much.
I simply shrugged. Let her interpret the gesture however she liked. No need to escalate the situation. She just needed the joke to steady herself, so why not? No reason for me to argue with her.
With that thought, I calmly waited until two more zombies finished shambling toward us, then—without ceremony and without holding back—smashed their heads together.
Claire, now clearly calmer—something evident from the seriousness returning to her eyes—finished off three more with precise shots.
Much better.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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