Resident Evil: Fallout

~ A fanfiction by the Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom ~

Summary: A quiet mountain town seemed like the perfect place to start a new life. However, all is not well in Arklay. Strange things are happening in the forest, and Jack and Lisa's worst fears are soon confirmed. Something else has survived…

Rating: T Category: Horror/Action/Adventure

Dedicated to DarkKnight7, my first ever reviewer, to whom I owe so much. And to Matthew - my husband, my friend and my inspiration.

Oh, and I still don't own Resident Evil or anything contained therein, but if you don't recognise anything from the games, or movies, or any other derivative product with the RE logo slapped on it, then it's probably mine.

By the way, this is the sequel to "Resident Evil: Project Lucifer". If you haven't read "Project Lucifer", you may wish to do so now, because then you'll understand what the heck's going on and who all these OCs are... anyway, enough disclaimers and stuff. On with the story!

1: A Sunday Morning In A Quiet Little Mountain Town

Sunday 11th October, 1998

Winter came early here in the mountains. It was still warm down on the plains, but up here the air was crisp and cold, scented with pine and the promise of snow, and the nights were drawing in sooner with every sunset.

It was a beautiful morning in Arklay, a small town set high in the mountains of the same name. The peace and stillness of the early morning was broken only by birdsong, the whispering of the trees in the forest that covered the lower half of the mountains, and the far-off rushing of the Marble River.

The tranquillity of the scene was gradually disturbed by the sound of marching feet.

Stamp, stamp, stamp, stamp…

Tap, tap, tap, tap…

Kerrrr-annnnnng…!

A guitar chord rang out, shattering the silence. It was followed by a second, identical chord, then a third and a fourth, and then all musical hell broke loose. In one particular street, several residents startled awake by the sound of someone hollering that he didn't want a holiday in the sun.

"What the hell?"

One couple peered out through the sash windows of their house, puzzled by the noise and its mysterious origins, before they realised exactly what it was that they were hearing.

"Oh, God," groaned the man. "It's her again… why did you have to make her a punk fan, God? And why did you have to make her an early riser too? Why? Was it something we did?"

"Whatever we did, it must have been really bad," the woman muttered. "It's only seven-thirty… I'm going back to bed, Harry."

"I'm not. There's no way I can sleep through that racket. Honestly, this is getting ridiculous - it's Sunday morning! Who listens to Seventies punk at seven-thirty on a Sunday morning?"

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"Ellie!"

The culprit responsible for crimes against peace and quiet put down her guitar, which she'd been playing in time with the music, and got up to open her bedroom door.

"What is it, Mum?" she bellowed down the stairs.

"Breakfast's ready!" came the reply from below.

"Oh, okay. I'll be down in a minute."

She closed the door again and walked across the room to shut her bedroom window. On her way back, she glanced in the mirror and saw a tall, skinny, sleepy-looking girl of fifteen staring back at her.

The girl was bespectacled and rather plain, with angular features, piercing blue eyes, a long nose and a mop of frizzy hair. The latter was an ambiguous blonde-brown colour and splendidly immune to combs.

Her outfit was, to put it politely, scruffy. She wore an old Ramones t-shirt and a pair of badly faded jeans that, judging by the gaping holes in the knees, had either been viciously attacked by giant clothes moths or savaged by a rogue lawnmower. Her battered sneakers had given up the ghost many months ago, but were still being refused a decent burial, on the grounds that their owner couldn't find a similar pair to replace them.

Rubbing her eyes, Ellie stared for some moments at this slightly outlandish vision, then nodded approvingly at her reflection. She turned away from the mirror and went to switch off her CD player, which was still blaring out Seventies punk classics at full volume. Interrupting the lead singer mid-refrain, she snatched up her guitar and backpack, and slammed the door on her way out of the room.

As she stepped out onto the landing, Ellie suppressed a shudder of disgust as she saw the ugly green wallpaper. The previous owners had not only had a complete lack of taste, but also an odd fixation with Artex, plywood, deep-pile carpets, horrible textured wallpaper and all things generally Eighties. Her parents were doing their best to undo the damage, but it had already taken over a year just to redecorate downstairs, and even now they were still trying to work their way up to the top floor.

She looked down at the stairs, which seemed dizzyingly steep and high at this time of the morning, and eyed the dark green carpet with extreme suspicion. The stair carpet was lethal, and shifted underfoot. Despite repeated warnings from her parents to be careful, it never made any difference - she always ended up landing flat on her face at the foot of the stairs.

The banister beckoned… oh, she'd been told not to do it, of course, but if it was a choice between getting into trouble or falling downstairs yet again, then she'd take the rap for this any day of the week.

Whistling cheerfully, Ellie hopped up onto the banister and slid down, playing a guitar riff on the way down. She leapt off the end of the banister and landed hard on the wooden floor, with a thud so loud that it echoed around the house.

"ELEANOR JOHNSON!" she heard her mother bellow from the kitchen. "I told you not to slide down the banister! How many times have I told you not to slide down the banister?"

"Twenty-seven this week," Ellie called, heading for the kitchen. "Repetition's good for the developing brain, though, Mum."

"I'll develop your brain in a minute! Now sit down and eat your breakfast, it's getting cold!"

Ellie knew that this was an idle threat, and that her mother wouldn't really do anything about her unfortunate habit of using the banister as an escape route; all the same, it was best not to push her luck. She went into the kitchen obediently and dropped her things next to the door.

Her family were seated around the kitchen table, a circular pine object that had taken a lot of punishment over the years. It bore the many various scars of family life: splashes of paint, red wine stains, blobs of candle wax, scores in the wood from cutlery dragged idly across the table, and smears of something sticky and unknowable that just wouldn't come off, no matter how much you scrubbed.

The first person she noticed at the table was her father, dressed for work and towering above the table even while seated. A picture of serenity, he was peacefully reading the newspaper, unaware that his glasses were sliding slowly down his nose.

"Morning, Dad," said Ellie, hugging him around the shoulders.

"Good morning, dear," he said mildly, turning the page of the newspaper. "Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Yeah, really nice," agreed Ellie. "Makes a change. Morning, Mum."

Ellie's mother was the complete polar opposite of her husband. Whereas Mr Johnson was lanky, dark-haired and serene, Mrs Johnson was short, plump, sandy-haired and prone to shouting. She was currently shouting across the table at Ellie's younger brother for not using a knife and fork properly -

" - like a civilised human being! You're a revolting Neanderthal and I am almost ashamed - oh, morning, Ellie dear, did you sleep well? - ashamed to call you my son! No child of mine has ever had such disgusting table manners! Now you pick up your knife and fork and eat properly!"

On the other side of the table, still being berated by his mother, was her brother Luke, aged nine, who was chasing a stray piece of food around his plate. Quiet, scholarly and prone to daydreaming, Luke rarely paid attention to anything that was said to him -

"Morning, Luke."

- and now was no exception. Ellie sighed, and moved on to the next person sitting at the table. This happened to be her baby sister, Ginny, aged eighteen months.

"Morning, Ginny-Gin," she said, idly tickling the baby under the chin. This gesture was obviously well-received; Ginny gurgled happily and drooled over the edge of her highchair.

The last member of the family, sitting in between Ginny and her father, was Ellie's older sister Mel. Seventeen years old, beautiful and disdainful, Mel was scowling disapprovingly at her brother, her full lips pursed in a pout. Nobody could sulk quite like Mel, Ellie reflected.

"Hey, Ellie," Mel greeted her sourly, before Ellie could even open her mouth. "Glad you could join us - for lunch."

"You'll be equally glad to know that I'm not stopping," said Ellie placidly, not rising to the bait. "I'm off to band practice."

Mel raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"Again?"

"Again," confirmed Ellie, gulping down a glass of orange juice and snatching a piece of toast from the toast rack. "Band practice makes band perfect. Well, can't stop, got to go. See you later, everyone."

"Have a good day, dear," called her mother. "And don't forget to take your jacket, it's cold outside."

"Will do, Mum," said Ellie, pulling on the old Army jacket that was hanging on a coat hook in the hall. She grabbed her backpack and guitar, and was out of the house before anyone could protest at her refusal to stay for breakfast.

xxxxxxxxxx

Ellie walked down the street with her backpack on her back, her guitar under her arm, and her dad's old Army jacket draped across her shoulders. Looking up at the bright blue sky and munching on the hot piece of buttered toast that she'd grabbed on her way out of the house, she felt completely at peace.

Arklay was a pretty little town, she had to admit. Built at the turn of the century as a spa town and ski resort, it had once been an ultra-fashionable holiday destination for the rich and famous. However, the town's popularity had soon waned and the celebrities had drifted off in search of warmer climes; Arklay was now little more than a faded resort town with a population of old people, wealthy eccentrics, well-to-do families and bored teenagers, none of whom had anything to do.

Yes, it was exceptionally pretty to look at. However, if you looked past the trappings of gorgeous Victorian-era homes and picturesque mountain scenery, things were very ugly indeed. Unemployment, alcoholism and drug addiction were rife in the town, and the suicide rate was the highest in the county. People wandered around aimlessly with nothing to do and nowhere to go, and the town looked more run-down and dilapidated with every passing year.

Apathy reigned supreme in Arklay, she thought, and its second-in-command was the mayor, Thomas Maddigan. Mayor Maddigan was, in the words of Ellie's father, "a corrupt jerk who owns most of the town" and was notorious for serving eviction notices to anyone who dared to get in his way. Since most people in the town rented their houses, it was unsurprising that few dared to vote for anyone else in the local elections. This meant that Mayor Maddigan carried on winning one landslide victory after another, driving Arklay further into an ever-deepening rut.

The whole town seemed hopelessly lethargic, as if it had become resigned to its fate and was just waiting for the end. It angered Ellie sometimes; she felt so frustrated, so powerless against this bully who treated the town like his own personal playground and let his arrogant, thuggish teenage son run rampant. Still, what could she do? It seemed as if there was no way to reverse the town's decay, or to cast out the man who presided over the town's misfortune year after year without lifting a finger to stop it.

One day, she thought, things will be different. Things are going to change around here soon, I just know it.

Something appeared to be changing at the far end of the street. Ellie peered over her glasses at one of the houses - the one that had been turned into apartments just before the town's prosperity took a turn for the worse.

An attractive woman with masses of curly strawberry-blonde hair was carrying cardboard boxes in through the front door. A few moments later, Ellie could see the woman moving around in the second-floor apartment. Just visible through the picture window, she was setting the boxes down on the floor.

This puzzled Ellie. She'd been told that the apartment had once belonged to a retired dentist, George Harlech, and his wife Rosemary. The couple had had two daughters - twins - and the apartment had been left to the girls after their deaths. One of the daughters, a wealthy scientist with several properties in the Raccoon area, hadn't wanted it and had left it in the hands of her sister, an overworked and impoverished junior doctor living on the outskirts of Raccoon City. It had been unoccupied for years.

But there had been no "For Sale" sign outside the apartment, and this woman definitely wasn't an impoverished junior doctor - so who was she, and what was she doing here?

Ellie shrugged. Whatever was going on, it was no business of hers. Besides, she'd be late for band practice if she stuck around here much longer. Finishing off the last crust of her toast, she hurried away down the street and left the mysterious woman and her cardboard boxes far behind.

xxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, a little car was winding its way slowly up the mountain road, coughing out clouds of grey exhaust fumes into the still mountain air. It contained three passengers, two of whom were asleep, and a third who was unwittingly pushing the driver towards total nervous breakdown.

"Are we there yet?"

The driver flinched. She'd been under a lot of pressure lately, and this really wasn't helping.

Being pestered was nothing new, of course. Even the most casual observer could see that the stress of being constantly harassed had taken its toll on the woman's body. The expression of permanent worry etched on her thin, pale face had added at least another ten years onto her real age, which was twenty-seven. The dark circles under her blue-grey eyes were just about concealed by a pair of glasses, but even make-up and the short blonde hair that framed her face couldn't hide the fact that she hadn't been getting enough to eat as of late.

"Are we there yet?" came the refrain from the passenger seat again.

The driver closed her eyes for a second and exhaled deeply. Her lips moved as she counted silently to ten.

"I said, are we - " the passenger began.

"No we are not," interrupted the driver. "Now please shut up and stop bothering me. I'm trying to drive."

She wished that she had chosen to wear her lab coat over her jeans and sweater. Quite apart from the fact that it would have been another layer of clothing to keep her warm in the chilly little rust-bucket that she was driving, its capacious pockets had been perfect for storing large quantities of Valium. She hadn't yet decided whether this would have been for herself or her travelling companion. Either option would be acceptable right about now, she thought grimly.

It wasn't that she didn't like Renée, she reminded herself, glancing briefly at the young woman with short, spiky dark hair, who was fidgeting restlessly in the passenger seat, clearly bored out of her mind. Renée was a great kid and a good friend. It was just that the perky nineteen-year-old seemed to be on a permanent sugar-high and was physically incapable of relaxing, even for a minute. Her bright brown eyes were darting from side to side as she took in her surroundings, and she was bouncing slightly in her seat, too, full of get-up-and-go even though she couldn't actually get up and go anywhere.

Without warning, the car hit a rough patch in the road. It juddered and rattled over the bumps, shaking everything inside it until the driver's brain felt as if it was reverberating inside her skull. She could definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Dr H?" said Renée, who was settling down a little now that the car was doing all the bouncing on her behalf. "Are you sure this is the right way? The road's getting a little rough, isn't it?"

"Trust me, this is the way," said the driver, whose name was Dr Clarissa Harlech. "I should know, I spent my entire childhood up in the mountains. The roads up here have always been bad. We're just lucky the snow hasn't come yet, or we'd probably have had to walk up here in snowshoes."

"Wow," said Renée, and she looked out of the window at the vast swathes of forest-covered mountains. "Pretty up here, though."

"Oh, it's gorgeous. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was up here," said Dr Harlech. The road was smoothing out again, and she felt a bit better now; her headache was slowly ebbing away. "The last time I came back up here was with Linda to sort out our parents' wills a few years ago. I haven't been back since; I never had the time. But I didn't really miss it all that much."

"Shame," said Renée. "It sounded like a nice place, from what you told us."

"Don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, but there's not much to do in the mountains," said Dr Harlech. "Still, in many ways that's a good thing," she added, after a moment's thought. "At least it's quiet and peaceful. Good place to recuperate."

"Nothing to do? I thought you said it was a ski resort," said Renée, frowning.

"Well, it used to be a spa town a long time ago, and it did double-duty as a ski resort in the snowy months," Dr Harlech explained. "All the rich people used to come and bathe in the hot springs, and in the winter they'd go skiing too. That way, the town got a steady income all year round - at least until all the millionaires discovered beach holidays."

"Do people still go skiing there?" said Renée, gazing dreamily at the mountains.

"No, not any more," said Dr Harlech, and she swerved to avoid a fallen branch in the road. "All that's long gone. Umbrella used to provide some jobs up here, because they needed staff for the Spencer mansion, but of course that's all gone now too. People just live here and commute to work, though I'm not sure what they're going to do now that Raccoon City's gone. The closest big town now is Rose Bay City, and that's miles away."

"Speaking of Raccoon City, have you heard from your sister?" asked Renée.

"No, but I'm not surprised," said Dr Harlech. "She probably thinks I'm dead."

"Are you sure she's still alive?" said Renée doubtfully.

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a minute," said Dr Harlech. "Linda was Head of Research, remember? All the higher-ups were evacuated by helicopter as soon as things started getting really bad. I don't know where she is now, but my guess is that she's been transferred to another facility elsewhere."

"She must be worried about you," said Renée.

"Heavens, no," said Dr Harlech dismissively. "She never liked me very much. I shouldn't think that she'd be terribly upset if something happened to me. How's your sister, anyway?"

"Thérèse? Much better," said Renée happily. "Jill and Barry had her flown in to Canada on Tuesday to stay with Barry's family. She's in the hospital and doing well. Another five or six treatment sessions, and the doctors think she'll be cured."

"That's wonderful news. I'm glad she's all right," said Dr Harlech.

"Thank you for paying for everything," said Renée. "Sorry about the trouble with my parents, too. They just didn't want to leave New Orleans. They think people will rob their house while they're away. They're paranoid like that."

"I understand," said Dr Harlech, nodding sympathetically. "But they should be all right. My main concern was Thérèse; I'm glad she's safely out of the way."

"Me too. At least I can go to Europe with you guys without having to worry about whether she's okay," said Renée. "You think the kids will be okay here, though?"

"They'll be fine. Don't worry about them," Dr Harlech assured her.

Renée nodded and looked out of the window again.

"Are we there yet?" she said after a while.

Dr Harlech gritted her teeth, and she gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

"Renée," she said calmly, all the while trying to suppress the terrible urge to smite her passenger repeatedly with the driver's handbook, "please don't start that again. It's a rather long walk up the mountain and I'm sure you'd rather stay in the car. You're quite welcome to do so, on the condition that you don't ask questions like "Are we there yet?". If we were there, I would have said so. Now shut up."

Renée blinked.

"Okay," she said. "That seems fair. Are we, though?"

"Almost," said Dr Harlech. "Now please, stop asking. I already said I'd let you know when we get there. Not that you'll be terribly excited when we do. We'll be off again as soon as we've dropped off the kids."

Renée merely shrugged.

"Doesn't bother me," she said. "I'm just waiting for a chance to stop so I can walk around. I've got cramp in my legs. Couldn't you find a bigger car to rent, Dr H?"

"Well, you try renting an SUV when half of your assets got blown up with Raccoon City," said Dr Harlech irritably. "The rental company wouldn't accept my credit card, so I had to take what I could get with what little cash I had on me. I spent most of my parents' inheritance taking care of your sister's treatment for you, and what I have left will have to go towards this trip to Europe. I can't afford to rent a big expensive car for a short round-trip. If you don't like it - "

"Yeah, yeah, I know. If I don't like it, I can get out and walk."

"Precisely."

Dr Harlech returned her full attention to the road ahead.

Renée sighed, and stared out of the window yet again. However, they were now in the middle of Raccoon Forest and the beautiful mountain scenery was lost from view. Trees, she soon decided, were boring.

She turned around to look at the back of the car. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were dozing quietly on the back seat. Renée smiled fondly at the sight of them; she liked those kids, and even though she hadn't known them for long, she was definitely going to miss them.

"Hey, guys, Dr H says we're almost there," she said. "You need to wake up now."

The girl stirred a little, and lifted her head. Her long, dark brown hair was tousled from sleep. Opening a pair of deep brown eyes, she looked quizzically at Renée, and her pretty, rounded face creased in a faint frown.

"Are we there yet?" she said sleepily.

Out of the corner of her eye, Renée saw Dr Harlech flinch again, but this time she said nothing, perhaps understanding that sleep had left the girl confused and disorientated.

"Yeah, we're almost there, Lisa," she told her. "You and Jack need to get ready. We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay," yawned the girl.

She leaned over towards her companion and shook him by the shoulder.

"Jack, we're nearly there," she told him gently. "Wake up."

"Huh? Wha'?" said the boy sleepily.

"I said, we're nearly there," Lisa repeated. "Renée and Dr H say we'll be there in a few minutes. You need to wake up."

"Ugh…"

The boy groaned, and made a concerted effort to sit up, but failed miserably and slumped back in his seat, closing his eyes again.

"No, Jack, wake up," said Lisa firmly, and she shook him again. "I know you're tired, but we're almost there. You can sleep some more later if you need to. Come on, wake up."

Jack mumbled something unintelligible in Spanish, and turned over. The frown on Lisa's pretty face deepened into an impatient scowl.

"Jack Carpenter, wake up this instant!" she snapped.

This did the trick - at once Jack sat up sharply, startled out of his drowsy state. His blue eyes opened wide, and he looked around, turning his head in little quick movements.

"Where we be?" he gasped.

"Not far from Arklay," Lisa told him. "Now stay awake, okay?"

"Okay, Lise," he said, settling back into his seat and resting his head on her shoulder. "I ain't gonna sleep no more. Think you scare me too much for me to sleep anyway."

"That was the idea," said Lisa severely, but the frown that creased her face soon smoothed out into a smile as Jack kissed her on the cheek. She ruffled his blond hair affectionately in return.

"Hey, dunt do that," he protested feebly, pushing his dishevelled fringe out of his eyes.

"You could always cut your hair and stop me from doing it," Lisa teased.

"Oh really, Señorita "Leave-You-Fringe-Like-It-Be, It-Look-Real-Cute"?" Jack said, grinning. Anyway, why you be complainin' 'bout it? 's short back an' sides, right?"

Lisa smiled again.

"Yes, I suppose so. And I was just teasing. I like your fringe long. Don't know how you can see where you're going when it's down to your eyes, though."

"Ah, you be worth walkin' into stuff for," said Jack, grinning again, and Lisa blushed.

The trees were thinning now, giving way to smaller, younger trees and undergrowth; then, suddenly, the car rounded a corner and tall white houses rose into view, their windows and slate roofs gleaming brightly in the light of a new day. Lisa heard Renée gasp quietly, her breath taken away by the view of these beautiful houses set against the natural splendour of the mountains and forest. Jack too was staring in awe at it, as if he had never seen mountains or houses before.

As for Dr Harlech, she was smiling to herself. Lisa remembered that the scientist had grown up in Arklay, and it was now plain to see that despite moving away and later dismissing it as nothing special, Dr Harlech had always secretly thought of this place as home.

"Home sweet home, huh, Dr H?" said Renée at last.

"No," said Dr Harlech, rather wistfully. There was a definite hint of regret in her voice. "Not for me. Much as I love Arklay, this isn't my home any more. I've moved on from this place. But I liked it up here in the mountains when I was a kid, and I think Jack and Lisa will like it here too. It's the perfect place for them to get over what happened in Raccoon City."

"Aren't they going to be bored here? You said there wasn't much to do," said Renée hesitantly.

"Renée, before you ask, the answer is no," said Dr Harlech instantly. "You know perfectly well that we can't take them with us."

"I know that," said Renée, sounding slightly irritated by this comment. "I'm just wondering what they're going to do for fun up here. Rest and relaxation can get old after a while. Are they going to be happy here?"

"Well, this is only temporary, Renée," Dr Harlech assured her. "They probably won't be here for more than a month or two at the most. Unless of course they really like it here and want to stay, in which case we can arrange something more permanent for them."

"Whatever floats their boat, I guess," said Renée. "What do you think, guys? You think you'll like it here?"

"It looks nice enough," said Lisa. "I don't see why we wouldn't like it here. It's pretty, and it looks calm and peaceful. We could do with the change of pace."

"Good," said Dr Harlech. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure the rest will do you both the world of good. After all, you've been through a lot in the past month."

Lisa and Jack both nodded vigorously at this, the understatement of the year. If escaping from zombies, battling monsters, witnessing the horrible deaths of their families and friends, being infected with a terrible virus and, finally, seeing their town blown up on national television wasn't considered a lot to go through, then they didn't know what was.

"Anyway," said Dr Harlech, as the car pulled up outside one of the houses with a screech of brakes. "We're here. Welcome to Arklay, kids."

Driver and passengers opened the car doors and climbed out. While Dr Harlech and Renée went round to the back of the car to remove Jack and Lisa's few possessions from the trunk, Jack and Lisa stared up at their new home.

Like most of the other houses in the street, it was three storeys high and painted a brilliant white, with high windows and a dark grey slate roof. The front door of the house was painted a glossy black, with a slightly tarnished brass doorknocker and matching letterbox. Beside the door were three different doorbells, one for each apartment in the building. Labels with names in faded blue ink stated who lived in each one; the second one was marked "Harlech".

There was a veranda on the first floor which looked out onto an unkempt garden, and to Lisa's delight, the second-floor apartment that was to be their new abode had a set of French doors leading out onto a beautiful wrought-iron balcony.

I've always wanted to live in a house with a balcony, she thought. It's just a shame I'm going to live here under these circumstances. I bet Mom would have liked this house…

"Nice place," said Jack admiringly. "I think I could get used to livin' here."

"That's good," said Renée, dropping a pair of backpacks at their feet. "We're glad you like it here."

She went back to help Dr Harlech unload a big pile of blankets and pillows from the car. Jack and Lisa went to help them, but were promptly shooed away again.

"Don't worry about all this stuff," Renée told them, dismissing their entreaties to let them help. "We'll bring all this up for you. Go upstairs and make yourselves at home, okay? Amber's upstairs too, she got some groceries for you. Go and say hi to her."

"Okay," said Lisa. "Thanks, Renée."

"No problem," grunted Renée, picking up a large stack of thick blankets and handing them to Dr Harlech, who staggered slightly under the weight.

Lisa and Jack picked up their backpacks and went up to the house, their shoes crunching on the gravel path. The front door was ajar and swung open at a light touch, revealing a large and airy foyer painted in magnolia and cream. There was a crystal chandelier hanging above them and a beautiful tiled floor underfoot, and on a coffee table near the foot of the staircase was a large vase filled with brightly coloured flowers.

Jack glanced at Lisa's rapturous expression. He knew all too well about her love of beautiful places and things; judging by the look on her face, she was in interior design heaven.

"This is so beautiful!" she cried. "It reminds me of…"

Her words trailed away, and her euphoric expression drained away; now she looked troubled and sad.

"… of home," she finished. "Mom always used to put a vase of flowers in the hall. She'd cut fresh flowers from the garden every other day and then she'd put them in her best china vase, the blue and white one that my grandmother gave her…"

She sighed heavily.

"Come on, Lise," said Jack, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You no should think 'bout this stuff, you gonna make youself sad 'gain. You never gonna get over it if you keep thinkin' 'bout the past the whole time."

"I can't help it, Jack," said Lisa, sighing. "I just can't stop thinking about it. I even dream about going home and seeing my mom and dad again. I know they're gone, but I just can't seem to let go. I miss them so much."

There was an awkward silence as they both tried to think of something to say.

"Come on," said Jack at last, taking Lisa by the hand. "We go upstairs an' find Amber, huh?"

They climbed the staircase to the second floor and saw the front door of the apartment, already open. Lisa and Jack stepped over the threshold and right into an elegant living room. Large, airy and well-lit, the room had been painted a warm cream colour and was grandly furnished. The three-piece suite in particular looked expensive; it was made from polished wood and upholstered in a soft ivory-coloured material. In front of the couch was a coffee table in the same dark-coloured wood, which had been polished until it gleamed.

On the far side of the room was an intricately-carved white marble fireplace, with a gold carriage clock and a pair of ornate candlesticks sitting on the mantelpiece; above the fireplace was a gigantic gold-framed mirror, which reflected almost the entire room. In the far corner of the room, near the fireplace, was a sleek, shiny black grand piano that wouldn't have looked out of place in a concert hall.

Behind them was a pair of well-stocked bookcases, one on either side of the front door, and two oil paintings of indeterminate value. Beneath their feet was a Persian rug, which had been positioned very carefully on the wooden floor, and - they looked up - above them was a chandelier, identical to the one downstairs, suspended from the high ceiling and casting little rainbows of light all around them.

Their jaws dropping in amazement, Jack and Lisa kept looking around at the room and its contents again, not quite believing what they were seeing.

"Whoa," said Jack at last, lost for words.

Lisa said nothing, but privately wondered how rich Dr Harlech's parents had really been. If they'd been so affluent, then why had Dr Harlech been left to struggle financially?

Nevertheless, it was beautiful here. Sunlight was streaming in through the tall windows and the French doors on the left-hand side of the room. The French doors were wide open, and the net curtains at the windows were billowing in the breeze; just visible on the balcony, leaning on the edge and admiring the view, was a familiar figure.

"Amber!" they both cried, rushing through the French doors and out onto the balcony.

Amber, a tall and slender young woman with bright green eyes and a glorious mane of strawberry-blonde curls, started at the sound of her name. When she saw Jack and Lisa, however, she broke into a broad grin that took several years off an already youthful face.

"Jack! Lisa!" she exclaimed, and hugged them both tightly. "I missed you guys… how was the trip? Did you get here okay?"

"We slept most of the way," Lisa admitted. "It's too early for me, I know that."

"Early morning seems popular around here," said Amber, turning back to the view from the balcony. "I heard someone playing punk music earlier - really loud, too. Sounded like it was coming from a couple of blocks away."

"Bet the neighbours just love 'em for doin' that on a Sunday mornin'," said Jack, grinning.

"I'm sure it's a felony to play music that loud at this hour," said Amber, with a small frown. "Not that I can do much about it, since I'm all that's left of the RPD. They have their own police force here, too, so it's probably out of my jurisdiction. Oh well. You like it here?"

"I think it's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," said Lisa, with feeling.

"Yeah, Dr H must be real rich to live up here," said Jack, looking back at the apartment's interior. "'s like a palace in there. That one room look bigger'n Aunt Rosa's whole apartment."

"Clarissa didn't live up here," said Amber, leaning on the edge of the balcony again. "She grew up here, but she told me the other day that back in Raccoon City she lived in an apartment in a pretty bad area of town - I think it was Masefield Park, near the outskirts. She wasn't rich if she lived there, that's for certain. That place was a dump."

"Then what 'bout all those chandeliers an' the piano an' stuff? Ain't that stuff expensive? I thought you hadda be real rich to afford stuff like that," said Jack.

"Her parents were rich, Jack," said Amber patiently. "She wasn't. Apparently her sister was her parents' favourite and she got all the preferential treatment and handouts. Clarissa pretty much had to fend for herself."

"But her mama an' dad leave her money when they die - why dint she spend it?" said Jack, puzzled. "If I had money like that, I no would leave it in the bank an' keep livin' in Masefield Park. I woulda bought a house in uptown or somethin'."

Amber shrugged.

"Either she didn't have time to spend it, or she was saving it for a rainy day. I don't know, but it certainly came in handy in the end," she said.

"It was kind of her to spend so much of it on Renée's sister," said Lisa. "She didn't have to do that. It sounded like an awful lot of money."

"I guess it's her way of making up for her involvement with Umbrella," said Amber. "You know how guilty she felt about working on their bioweapons programme, even if it wasn't really her fault. Or maybe she just felt sorry for Renée because she'd been blackmailed by the company too. Who knows?"

"Could be both. It's hard to tell," said Lisa.

"Yeah…"

Amber trailed off, and looked down at the little rental car parked below them.

"I got some groceries for you kids," she said abruptly, steering the conversation back to practical matters. "I left them on the kitchen table along with the spare key. We got some new clothes for you, too; they're hanging up in the closets in your rooms. If you need money, we've set up an account for you with the bank in town, and that should cover essentials. No buying stuff that you don't need, okay? The occasional rented movie or something is fine, but don't bring a Ferrari home, because we're sure as hell not paying for it. We've left you a couple of contact numbers, in case you need to get hold of us while we're away, but please don't call unless it's urgent."

She paused briefly for thought.

"Uh… what else? Oh, yeah, you start back at school tomorrow. Survivors or not, you kids still need an education. Arklay High's a good school, from what Clarissa told us, so you should do just fine there. There's a map of the town on the table, too, so no lame excuses about not being able to find the place. Okay?"

"Okay," said Jack and Lisa, nodding.

"I think that's pretty much everything you need," said Amber. "You can keep your guns, but only for self-defence, and you're not to take them outside of this apartment. Now, you be good kids, behave yourselves, work hard at school, and keep the place tidy, because this is still Clarissa's apartment. Mrs Winfield downstairs is an old friend of Clarissa's family, and she's there if you need her. And don't forget to water the plants and feed your hamsters."

"Amber, we gave the hamsters away to a little girl in Tumbleweed," Lisa pointed out. "You know, the cute little red-haired girl who told us she'd always wanted a pet hamster. She called them Fluffball and Elvis. Remember?"

"Oh yeah," said Amber, smacking herself in the forehead. "I forgot. Sorry, it's been a hectic few weeks."

From inside came the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. This was accompanied by some muffled shouting; it sounded as though Dr Harlech and Renée were ready and waiting to leave.

Amber gave Jack and Lisa an apologetic look.

"Well… I'd better get going," she said reluctantly. "We've got to meet up with Barry, Jill and Carlos in Rose Bay City this afternoon before we head for the airport, and we've got a long way to travel."

Amber stood up straight and headed for the French doors. She put her hand on one of the door handles, as if to close the door behind her, but she hesitated and turned around to face Lisa and Jack again.

"You two are going to be okay here, aren't you?" she asked them.

"We'll be fine, Amber," Lisa promised her. "Don't worry about us. We're more worried about you and the others. Your whole taking-out-Umbrella mission sounds pretty dangerous. I hope you'll be all right out there."

"Lisa, we're all trained to handle danger - well, except Clarissa," Amber admitted. "But she managed to take out a Tyrant on her own, so I'm sure she can look after herself. Try not to worry too much about us. Your main concern now is getting on with your own lives."

"We know, but you're our friends. We don't want you to get hurt. Please take good care of yourselves, won't you?" said Lisa.

"Yeah, we will," said Amber.

Her expression softened, then she suddenly flung her arms around Jack and Lisa again, wrapping them up in another tight hug.

"Oh - I'm going to miss you kids," she said. "I wish we could let you come with us. It's not going to be the same without you two around to save our butts."

The two teenagers both grinned at the memory of having saved the supposedly more intelligent and responsible adults on multiple occasions, all during the same twenty-four hour period.

"We gonna miss you too, Amber," said Jack, once he and Lisa had been released from Amber's hug. "It ain't gonna be the same without you an' Dr H an' Renée around."

"Amber, time to go!" called Renée from somewhere inside the apartment. "Seriously, Dr H says we have to leave, or we'll be late meeting Jill and Carlos and that other guy!"

Amber straightened up again and surreptitiously wiped her eyes.

"You take care, kids," she told them. "We should be back soon, maybe in a few weeks if all goes well. Until then, look after yourselves. Hope you have fun here in Arklay."

"Good luck in Europe," said Jack. "Kick some Umbrella ass for us, yeah?"

"Oh, we will," said Amber, smiling wickedly. "No doubt about that!"

She went back inside, pausing for a moment to wave goodbye to them, and left the apartment. Once the sound of footsteps on the stairs had faded away, Jack and Lisa looked over the edge of the balcony at the street below and saw Amber walking towards the car with Renée and Dr Harlech.

"Are you sure they'll be all right?" they heard her say to the other two.

"They'll be fine, Amber," Dr Harlech assured her, although Jack and Lisa detected a tinge of doubt in the words.

"This sucks," said Renée sulkily. "I wish we could take them with us. We'd defeat Umbrella a whole lot quicker with them on our side."

"But they're just children, Renée," Dr Harlech reminded her. "I know they did well to stay alive in Raccoon City, but from now on it's our responsibility to keep them out of danger. This is a nice safe place for them to readjust to normal life. They've been through a lot and they need time to recover. This is the best place for them to be right now. You know that."

"Yeah," said Renée, who looked morose even from this elevation. "I'm going to miss them, though. I love those kids. I think they're awesome."

"Same here," said Amber, now sniffling quietly. "I love them too…"

"Me too," said Dr Harlech, and now her voice was cracking as well. "Damn it, did you really have to remind me? I was trying not to think about it so I wouldn't cry in front of anyone else…"

The three women looked at each other, then simultaneously burst into tears.

"Come on, get in the car, they'll hear us…" sobbed Dr Harlech, pushing a bawling Amber towards the car. "You don't want to upset them, do you?"

Amber's anguished howls doubled in intensity.

"Shut up, shut up, they're going to hear us and then they'll cry, and then we'll cry some more, and that'll make them worse, and then none of us will ever stop," said Renée tearfully, clambering into the front passenger seat at the same time as Amber attempted to get in the front seat of the car. "Hey, get in the back, I ride shotgun!"

There was a brief scuffle over who got to ride in the front passenger seat, which Renée eventually won; Amber landed backwards in the road with a wail of indignation as the car door slammed shut, then went reluctantly to the back seat of the car and got in.

Dr Harlech opened the door on her side, blew her nose noisily, then she got into the driver's seat and slammed the door again. The car drove off in a noxious grey cloud of exhaust fumes, and was soon little more than a dwindling speck in the distance.

Jack looked at Lisa, who was staring sadly at the smoke that the car had left behind.

"You ain't gonna cry, right, Lise?" he said anxiously.

Lisa shook her head.

"No, I'm not," she said. "They said they'd be fine. We said we'd be fine too. And that's how it's going to be. Besides, they're going to come back for us soon. It's not like we're never going to see them again, right?"

"Yeah," said Jack. "You be right as usual, Lise. Things gonna be fine. Come on, we should look around this place some more. Wonder if all the rooms be fancy like this one?"

He went back inside to explore the apartment. Lisa watched him go, smiling despite her sadness at seeing three of her few remaining friends leave, on a dangerous mission to take out the European branches of the world's most powerful and deadly corporation. Umbrella Pharmaceuticals Inc. had already killed thousands of people with the viruses it had manufactured, and she was worried that it might be about to claim three more victims.

That said, Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech had survived them once, so they were sure to triumph again. She had to keep believing that, or she'd go insane with worry.

"Wow, Lise, you oughta take a look at this!" she heard Jack exclaim from inside the apartment.

She smiled again at the sound of that voice, not least because she'd never thought that she'd hear it again. Jack had almost died after being infected with one of Umbrella's terrible viruses back in Raccoon City. Only her willingness to brave all kinds of assorted horrors to find a cure had saved his life.

Best friend… and boyfriend now, of course. They'd been covering up their feelings for each other in the name of social conformity for too long. It was high time that the rich, privileged uptown girl and the poor, scruffy downtown boy told the world that they could still be happy together in spite of their differences. Besides, Raccoon City was gone, so there was no uptown-downtown divide any more - or even an uptown or a downtown, now that she thought about it. All that had gone up in flames when the missile struck the town.

"Lise? Come see this, I know you gonna love it. You like that Art Nouveau stuff, right?"

"All right, I'm coming," Lisa called, and went inside. She shut the French doors behind her and went in search of her boyfriend.

Things, she thought, were looking pretty good for them both right now. They had a safe and beautiful place to live, a new school at which they could make a fresh start, and they were still together, in spite of everything that they'd been through. Best of all, there was no possibility whatsoever of further viral outbreaks occurring in the region.

Well, there wouldn't be, now that Umbrella's regional headquarters and facilities are all gone. Unless of course they built a new one, but people would never allow that after what just happened to Raccoon City. So we're completely safe. Nothing bad is going to happen. From now on, our lives will be happy and peaceful.

At least, she hoped so.

Then again, you never know, she thought, as she went through into a dining room that, as Jack had indicated, was furnished entirely with Art Nouveau-style wooden furniture - a large dining table and six matching chairs, a sideboard and a drinks cabinet - and decorated in the same style.

What if it could happen again? she thought, smiling outwardly but secretly unnerved by the terrifying prospect of a repeat performance of the T-Virus. What if it can happen?

What if it does…?

xxxxxxxxxx

Click.

The little noise interrupted the repetitive drone of a phone ringing endlessly at the other end of the line.

"Hazlitt," said a middle-aged male voice crisply.

"It took you long enough," the woman snapped. "I've been trying to get hold of you for hours."

"I've been trying to get away for hours. The meeting was as interminable as it sounded. The board of directors can make a simple ten-minute discussion stretch to four hours, and that tiresome old fool Spencer is the worst of them. Four hours of posturing and overblown pomposity. It's enough to bore one to tears."

"The man's in love with his own voice," said the woman curtly.

"Quite," said the man, with a cough. "Now, enough of Spencer. Report."

"The decontamination squads are picking over the remains of the site even as we speak."

"Anything?"

"Nothing so far. They went right down to the deepest levels and the most they found were some lumps of molten metal and a large pile of dust. They said that it looked organic - they've taken some samples. From the size of it, I'm guessing that it was the subject. Initial forensic reports are in agreement."

"But the blast couldn't possibly have penetrated that far down."

"Precisely. They don't think it was the blast."

"Impossible. There's no other way to destroy something like that."

"Nevertheless, the fact remains that the subject has been terminated."

"Redmond… this is her doing, isn't it?"

"I highly doubt it. The rumours weren't true - I had the place searched on numerous occasions. I checked there myself several times and found nothing. Nothing. Not a trace of evidence to suggest that she was doing anything other than her assigned work. I personally believe that it was never anything more than gossip and hearsay."

"Then it was sabotage - someone must have tampered with the project."

"Possible, I'll grant you that, but highly unlikely. Although if that had been the case, then my money would have been on Hartley."

"Not him. He knew better than to question the company's decisions."

"No, not him - Jonathan was a model employee. I mean her."

"Elizabeth was… difficult, sometimes, I'll agree, but all she needed was a little persuasion to help her on her way. She worked like a demon once she was given the proper incentive."

"I'm not surprised. All she cared about was her husband and that brat of theirs - Leanne, or Eliza, or whatever her name was. I bet all you had to do was mention their names in the right context to have her running scared."

"Indeed. However, we're straying away from the point. The point is that the subject was eliminated somehow, and not by the blast. We need to find out how and why, and promptly. The project cannot be allowed to fail."

"It's already failed. Millions of dollars and months of research completely wasted. There's nothing left of the project."

"On the contrary. Samples were smuggled out of the laboratory after the incident in July, and all the information regarding the project was transferred to the central computer network as soon as it became clear that the Raccoon City outbreak could not be contained. The seeds of the Lucifer Project can be resown - all we need is a new location and some new staff, and the phoenix will rise from the ashes once more."

"And where do you propose that we get these things?"

"My dear Dr Lampeter, we already have everything we need. It's merely a question of rebuilding…"

xxxxxxxxxx

Morning gave way to afternoon, and afternoon to evening. By now Jack and Lisa had thoroughly explored the apartment, and found it to their liking. Lisa had particularly admired her new bedroom, a serene and beautiful space with clean white walls, a double bed with a rose-patterned quilt, a small chandelier - the late Mr and Mrs Harlech had obviously liked chandeliers - and an antique dressing-table cluttered with old jewellery and French perfume.

Jack wasn't quite so content with his new living quarters. His room had turned out to be painted a garish pink colour, filled with cute stuffed animals and the distressing scent of carpet fluff and strong nail polish. The bunk-beds and the faded music posters on the walls suggested that the young Harlech twins had once slept here.

"Ah, well," Jack had reflected later. "Better than no room at all, right? Maybe if we stay here for good, I can ask Dr H if I can redecorate. This room would look muy bien with some blue paint an' a coupla metal posters on the walls."

"They'd go really well with the teddy bears in the corner," Lisa had informed him solemnly, before bursting into giggles.

Dinner had been a quiet but pleasant affair, eaten at the kitchen table. Lisa had never been much good at cookery, despite countless meals eaten alone at home, so Jack had taken charge and made a pair of perfect omelettes. Lisa had been surprised by this; she'd never known that Jack could cook at all, let alone to this standard.

"Aunt Rosa teach me how to make 'em," Jack told her, on being asked how he'd learned to cook so well. "Dunt know how you uptown folks eat, but Auntie always used to cook everythin' from scratch, an' she make me learn every one of her recipes by heart so I know how to do it too. She say there be no excuse for a Jemez no learnin' how to cook."

"But you're a Carpenter," Lisa had said, puzzled.

"Sure, that too, but she say that dint matter," said Jack dismissively. "She tell me my mama would be real mad if she think a kid of hers dint know how to cook. So I learn. I can teach you too if you want."

It was rare for Jack to talk about his mother at all, and Lisa had listened carefully in the hope of learning more. However, Jack had left it at that, and she hadn't wanted to intrude by asking any more questions.

She still wondered from time to time what had happened to his mother, or why his father was in a state penitentiary in California, Jack's original home and place of birth. Jack's past was shrouded in mystery - all she knew was that his mother had died suddenly when Jack was five or six, that his father had been imprisoned shortly afterwards, and that he had been sent to live with his mother's sister in Mexico for the next decade. He and his aunt had returned to America and settled in Raccoon City a few months ago, she'd met him at school, and the rest was history.

Aunt Rosa was dead now, of course. The T-Virus had killed the warm-hearted and motherly woman who had cared for her nephew as though he was her own son, just as it had killed Lisa's own parents. The circumstances of their guardians' deaths had been rather different, although the cause of death was the same - Aunt Rosa, a prostitute by trade, had contracted the virus after being bitten by one of her clients, while her parents, Drs Jonathan and Elizabeth Hartley, had been infected along with all the other Umbrella employees toiling in the secret laboratory complex hidden beneath the Umbrella building in Raccoon City.

Either way, Umbrella was to blame for having stolen their families from them. One day, she and Jack would make them pay for what they'd done. Until then, however, they could get on with their omelettes and the remainder of their teenage years in peace.

All things considered, it had been a nice day. Jack's only complaint was that there was no television set in the house - it appeared that Dr Harlech's parents had disliked the medium of television intensely and refused to have a set in the house. Lisa decided that Dr Harlech and her sister must have compensated for this by making their own entertainment. There were certainly enough books in the house for them to read, plus a very fine piano on which to practise, and she and Jack had discovered a chess set and an easel in the study, so painting and board games had obviously been on the agenda too. So, apparently, had the old record player and the collection of Seventies disco LPs underneath the bunk beds in Jack's room.

Those poor kids, she thought. Books, chess, painting and piano are all very nice, but only Seventies disco to listen to? No punk, no rock, no heavy metal? No wonder Linda turned evil and Clarissa ended up all twitchy and neurotic. I can't say I blame either of them.

"It ain't fair," Jack complained. "They be showin' Curse Of The Black Mountains on RCM tonight. That be my favourite movie. You ever see it, Lise? The one where the evil scientist make this monster in his castle an' he send the monster down the mountain to eat the villagers? That be the most awesome movie ever."

"You're so ungrateful, Jack Carpenter," admonished Lisa. "You're lucky we have anywhere to go at all, and now you're complaining that there's no television? Besides, after what happened to us in Raccoon City, do you really want to watch a movie about evil scientists sending monsters down into a town to eat people?"

"Uh… good point," said Jack, after some thought. "I dint think 'bout it like that. Guess I ain't gonna be watchin' that movie 'gain any time soon. There be plenty of other old horror movies I like though. You ever see Giant Ants Ate Our City! ?"

"Giant mutant creatures eating stuff?" said Lisa incredulously. "That's just as bad. Remember the zombie frogs? And the giant moth in the Umbrella building?"

"Oh yeah. Dammit, I never gonna be able to watch old sci-fi B-movies 'gain. 'Specially Revenge Of The Zombie Journalists. Muchas gracias, Umbrella. Bad enough you kill my aunt an' my amigos an' get my home blown up, but now you stop me from watchin' movies 'bout giant ants too? That stinks…"

Jack yawned. Night came much more quickly up here in the mountains, he thought; the sky was darkening fast, even though it was still relatively early. Though he would normally have stayed up much later than this in Raccoon City, he felt strangely sleepy.

"Tired?" said Lisa, with gentle concern.

Jack nodded, stifling another yawn.

"Me too," said Lisa, now trying not to yawn herself. "We should get an early night. We've got school tomorrow."

"'kay. Night, Lise."

"Night, Jack. Sleep well."

"You too, querida."

They exchanged a brief goodnight kiss, then switched off the living room lights and went to their separate rooms.

Closing the door behind him, Jack surveyed the room that would serve as his own for the time being, and wondered which of the bunk beds to choose. Eventually deciding on the bottom bunk, he didn't even bother getting changed for bed; he just climbed in and pulled the covers back over him, settling down into the soft mattress.

He missed his old apartment, his old bed and Aunt Rosa's customary goodnight hugs - an unfamiliar bed in a strange apartment just wasn't the same, even if he did get a goodnight kiss from Lisa. However, there was nothing he could do, as apartment, bed and aunt were all gone forever; he'd just have to get used to it, he told himself.

"Love you, Lise," he murmured, snuggling into the cold bed with a sigh and trying to make himself warm and comfortable.

On the other side of the corridor, Lisa lay awake in her new bed and stared up at the ceiling. This bed was too cold, too big and empty after her cosy little bed back home. Her new pyjamas, bought for her by Amber and the others, were comfortable enough but felt strange; she was used to wearing her mother's old nightgown to bed and hadn't worn pyjamas since she was ten years old.

And if that wasn't irritating enough to stop her from sleeping, there were so many thoughts running through her head - thoughts of her old home in Raccoon City and of her parents, now dead and gone. At the back of her mind was vague worry about Amber, Renée and Dr Harlech, even though they could probably manage just fine without her or Jack to help them.

Above all, she was thinking about what the future held in store for her and Jack. Would they be happy here in Arklay? What would school be like - would they make friends with the other kids, or would they be unwanted, shunned, dismissed as outsiders? How long would they be staying here? Most of all, were they safe from Umbrella's evil clutches?

We're as safe as we'll ever be, I guess. They won't want to be drawing attention to themselves, particularly not in this area, so at worst they'll be lying low. Hopefully they've gone forever and won't come back…

It was with this thought that Lisa drifted off to sleep, her eyes closing and her head sinking back into the pillows.

All over Arklay, lights were going off. Golden glows in the residents' windows flickered and faded, turning off one by one. From above, it was like seeing a whole constellation gradually winking out, star by little yellow star. Before long, the entire town was shrouded in sleep and complete darkness.

Yet not everything in Arklay slept soundly. Unbeknownst to the inhabitants of the town, something was watching from deep within the dark, rustling forest...