Sunlight, Sunbright

Fort Irwin had been overtaken by the desert.

So had most of the country for that matter, given how the T-virus had killed everything it touched, and the sand of Mother Earth wanted to cover up the monuments of those who had caused its downfall. Or something. Seven didn't believe in Gaia. He didn't believe in any of the 3000-plus gods and goddesses that mankind had constructed over the years. Right now, he didn't believe in anything. Only that he'd probably be dead soon, but until that happened, he'd stick with Umbrella, because right now, that was the best chance he had of staying alive for as long as possible.

Of course, staying with Umbrella did have some downsides if you had any kind of morality, but then, morality didn't keep you alive. Food, water, guns, and body armour kept you alive. So, as Gamma Team touched down in their tiltrotor, he reminded himself that he and his team had a job to do – to safeguard the retrieval team as they stripped Fort Irwin of every piece of equipment they could find, and bring it back to the base in Nevada. It was a trip that would cost the tiltrotors fuel, but be worth more their weight in gold. Not that gold had any value now, but…He shook his head, as Gamma Team moved out. He was thinking too much.

"Jesus Christ it's hot."

He looked over as Kielland took off his helmet. His face was drenched in sweat, and he took a swig from his flask. He frowned. Poor discipline could get you killed.

"Course it's hot. It's ninety-five degrees out here."

Bernd would know that of course. Bernd, their techie, knew everything.

"Come on," Seven said. "Move up."

The USS commandos moved in formation, even while Kielland left his helmet on the sand. This was going to take hours at the least – Fort Irwin had had over 8000 staff prior to its abandonment, and it had been built to accommodate them. Coupled with the sand that had blown over everything, and the need to sweep every nook and cranny for the undead…yeah, not so much hours, but days. But, Isaacs wanted loot, so Isaacs, bastard as he was, would get it.

"I'm sick of this."

Seven looked at Kielland. "Got a problem?"

"Yes, I've got a problem. "It's ninety-six degrees out here-"

"Ninety-five," Bernd popped up.

"…and we're dressed in this." He hit his black, Kevlar-fitted armour. "This." What, are we expecting to be shot at?"

"It could happen," said Summer – Gamma Team's fourth member, and the only female. She tapped at the Umbrella logo on her armour. "Lots of people aren't happy to see this and-"

She trailed off. Gamma Team came to a halt, and Seven made a sign to the recovery team to stay with the tiltrotors. There, stumbling out from one of the buildings, crawling through the sand. An Oscar mike. Or a zombie. He was fine with either. He looked at Kielland.

"You want to know why we wear this?" he asked, tapping his own armour. "Here, I'll show you."

He slung his P90 over his back and walked over towards the undead. His team made some exclamations, but he ignored them. It was a "freshie" – a zombie that had been dead less than a year. You faced the undead for five years crawling away at the Nevada base, and you began to spot the differences. So, with one hand, he grabbed the shambler by the throat, while sticking out his left arm towards its mouth. It bit. His team let out cries…

And nothing happened. The body armour was too thick for its teeth to pierce. He dragged the zombie over, as it continued to gnaw and gnash like an animal. He looked at Kielland.

"This is why we wear this," he said. "Because one bite, and either you're dead, or we have to use up some anti-virus." He drew out his knife and plunged it into the biter's forehead, killing it. "I'll let you ponder if you'd be worth it."

Kielland didn't say anything. No-one did. Seven took off his helmet, and nodded for his team to do the same. It was hot out here. He'd afford them this much comfort.

"Now move out."

Gamma moved onwards, in the silence of highly trained operatives recruited from militaries that had been destroyed years ago. His own included. Fort Irwin was empty because the men and women stationed there had been sent to San Bernadino in what had been the US's flailing attempts to contain the spread of the T-virus; attempts mimicked by every country on the planet. The US Army was long gone. Fort Irwin was long empty. Now, all he and Gamma had to do was to take out whatever suckers remained.

"You okay?"

He looked at Summer. "What?"

"You okay?" she repeated.

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you former Army?" she asked. "This is an Army base? Hoo-ah, and all that?"

"That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, so?"

"So you think I'm going to be bothered by this, you don't know me that well."

"Actually, none of us do."

Good, he thought. He didn't care if Gamma loved or hated him. Four years ago, he might have, as he had to worry about performance assessment, but now…well, that was four years ago in what was now ten years in working for Umbrella, after being poached from the Army.

"You think there's any live-ones here?"

Don't ask questions.

The words came flooding back to him. Why did a pharmaceutical company want to recruit operatives for a paramilitary? Don't ask questions. Was it true that Umbrella had actually nuked Raccoon City? Don't ask questions. Was it true that an outbreak had been reported in San Francisco, and similarly in Tokyo? Don't ask questions. Was it true that Umbrella was relocating into underground bases across the globe as civilization fell apart? Don't ask questions.

Don't ask questions. That phrase had come up over and over again, and especially in the Nevada base, with Isaacs doing…whatever the hell he was doing. So, no, he kept walking, and didn't ask questions. Didn't ask any of the above, didn't ask how long supplies would last, didn't ask what he'd do if he found what troopers called "live ones." Didn't ask about the rumours that "live ones" were being taken to parts unknown for reasons unknown. Didn't ask how much longer he could operate in the knowledge that he was working for a company that had destroyed the world.

"Bingo!"

He glanced over at the source of the voice. Bernd had come out of a building, bringing a six pack with him.

"Beer," Summer said. "You found beer."

"Yep, beer," he said. He looked at Seven. "Hey, the Mercury's gone up to ninety-six."

"And I'm entitled to shove a round up your arse." He hesitated, before nonetheless taking the peace offering. "Pass it round."

Bernd did so – it managed to get Kielland to shut up long enough that he had time to think. Time enough to think that 8000 people had once lived here. That 287 million people had once lived in this country, that over 6 billion people had once lived on this planet, and now, they were either dead, or undead. Now, only a few living within a wasteland, under a burning sun that not even a cold one could shield him from. Not even…

He sighed, and picked up the Umbrella logo off his suit. He held it up, squinting at it through the sun's glare. The sun was meant to make umbrellas useless – you took them out in the rain. Now though, he rarely saw the sun. But saw the logo everywhere. Somehow, it still mattered to the people who ran the company.

"Seven?"

He looked at Summer.

"You okay?"

"Hmm." He nodded to Gamma Team. "Come on. Armoury's this way."

At his command, Gamma Team resumed their sweep.

No-one saw him drop the Umbrella badge in the sand.

A/N

I could list a lot of gripes I have with the Resident Evil movies, but the concept that got me to drabble this down is the question of what the average Umbrella employee thinks about working for them post-outbreak, and as a side issue, how Umbrella troops become faceless mooks over the course of the series. First movie? Not particuarly deep characters, but characters nonetheless. Second movie? Apparently Umbrella has access to nuclear weapons and can seal off an entire city, but while some are apparently happy to open fire on civilians, people like Carlos still exist. Third movie and onwards? Apparently the average Umbrella grunt has no compunction against continuing to work for the company that's abducting people off the surface of the earth they destroyed. Or something.

Like I said, drabbled this up as a spin-off from this trend.