They spread out and went to the North; Wesker and Chris respectively behind and left of Barry; Jill and Joseph were on his right. In front of them was a sparse stand of trees, and as the Alpha's helicopter blade slowed down, Jill could smell burning fuel and see wisps of smoke curling through the forest.
They moved into the wooded area, visibility dropping off beneath the needled branches. The warm scents of pine and earth overshadowed by the burning smell, the bitter smell were growing stronger with each step.
From the dim light filtering toward them, Jill saw a clearing ahead, high with brittle grasses.
"I see it, dead ahead!"
She felt her heart speed up at Barry's shout, and they were all running, hurrying to catch up with him.
Jill emerged from the scrub of trees, Joseph next to her. Barry was already at the downed helicopter, Chris and Wesker right behind. Smoke was rising from the silent wreck, but it was thinning. If there had been a fire, it had died out.
She and Joseph reached the others and stopped, staring, no one uttered a word as they surveyed the scene.
The long and broad body of the helicopter was intact, not a single scratch visible. The port landing rail looked bent, but besides that and the dying haze of smoke from the rotor, there seemed nothing wrong with it. The hatches stood open, Wesker's penlight showed them an undamaged cabin, and most of the Bravo's gear was still on board.
So, where are they?
It didn't make any sense; the last transmission was not over than fifteen minutes ago; if any of them had an injury, they wouldn't go anywhere. And if they had decided to leave, why left the equipment behind?
Wesker handed the light to Joseph and nodded toward the cockpit, "Check for any problem. The rest of you spread out, look for clues or tracks; shell casings, signs of struggle, anything you can find. Don't forget to tell us and stay alert."
Jill stared at the smoking helicopter and wondering what could have happened. Enrico mentioned about a malfunction; so okay, the Bravos had set down. Then what happened next? What would have made them abandon their best chance of being found, leaving behind emergency kits, weaponry, and bullet-proof vests?
She shook her head, things just growing weirder by seconds; she joined the search while Joseph stepped out of the cockpit, looking as confused as she felt. She waited to hear his report as he handed the light back to Wesker, shrugging nervously.
"I don't know what happened. Aside from the electrical system, everything looks fine."
Wesker sighed, then raised his voice so the others could hear.
"Circle out, people, three meters apart, widen as we go!"
Jill moved to stand between Chris and Barry; both men had scanned the ground at their feet as they slowly moved east and northeast of the helicopter. Wesker stepped into the cabin, probing the darkness with his penlight. Joseph headed west.
Dry weeds crackled underfoot as they widened their circle, the only sound in the still, warm air except for the distant hum of the Alpha helicopter engine.
Jill used her boots to search through the thick ground cover, brushing the tall grasses aside with each step. In another few moments, it'd be too dark to see anything; they needed to break out the flashlights, Bravo had left theirs behind.
She stopped and perched her ears, hearing the sigh and crackle steps of the others, then the hum of the far-away drone of their helicopter.
And nothing else, not a chirp, a chitter, nothing.
They were in the woods, in the middle of summer; where were the animals and insects?
The forest was unnaturally tranquil, and she felt like the Alphas were the only presence of living being. For the first time since they had set down, Jill was afraid, intending to call out the others, but Joseph suddenly shouted from somewhere behind them; his voice was loud and hysteria.
"Hey! Over here!"
Jill dashed toward him, seeing Chris and Barry did the same. Wesker was still in the helicopter but had drawn his weapon at Joseph' cry, pointing it up as he broke into a run.
In the dim light, Jill could see Joseph's silhouette, squatted in the tall grass by the trees at a hundred feet away from the helicopter. She pulled out her sidearm almost in instinct then running faster, the sense of encroaching doom somewhat overwhelmed her at this point.
Joseph stood up, holding something, and let out a strangled scream before dropping it, his eyes wide with horror.
For a split-second, Jill's mind couldn't accept what she had seen in Joseph's grasp.
A S.T.A.R.S. handgun, a Beretta, and a disembodied human hand curled around it, hacked off at the wrist.
Jill ran faster, catching up to Wesker.
But there was this deep-guttural snarl from behind Joseph, from the darkness of the trees, an animal's growl, then a rasping-throaty shriek that followed after.
Powerful forms flushed out from the dark; it lunged at Joseph and took him down.
"Joseph!"
Jill's scream rang in his ears, Chris drew his weapon and stopped in his tracks, trying to get a clear shot at the raging beasts that assaulting Joseph. Wesker's penlight sent a thin beam dancing over the twisting creatures, illuminating a nightmare.
Joseph's body covered by the three animals that tore at him, ripping him off with their gnashing and dripping jaws. They were the size and shape of dogs; German shepherds maybe, except they seemed has no fur and skin.
Wet, red sinew and muscle flashed beneath Wesker's wavering light, the dog-creatures shrieking and snapping in a frenzy of bloodlust.
Joseph cried out, a burbling, liquid sound as he flailed weakly at the savage attackers, blood pouring from multiple wounds. It was the scream of a dying man. There was no time to waster; Chris targeted and opened fire.
Three rounds smacked wetly into one of the dogs, the fourth shot going high.
There was a single, high-pitched yelp and the beast went down, its sides heaving. The other two animals continued their onslaught on Joseph, indifferent to the thunderous shots.
As Chris watched in horror, one of the slavering hell hounds lunged forward and ripped out Joseph's throat, exposing bloody gristle and the glistening slickness of bone.
The S.T.A.R.S. opened up, sending a rain of explosive fire at Joseph's killers. Red spatters burst into the air, the dog-things still trying to get at the spasming corpse while bullets riddled their strange flesh.
With a final series of harsh, barking mewls, they fell and didn't arise again.
"Hold your fire!"
Chris took his finger off the trigger but continued to point his handgun at the fallen creatures, ready to blow it apart even at a single twitched. Two of them still breathing, growling softly through panting gasps. The third one had sprawled lifelessly next to Joseph's mutilated body.
They should be dead, should've stayed down at the first shot! What are they?
Wesker took a single step toward the slaughter in front of them, when suddenly.
"Awoooo!" low and deep howls echoed at the warm night air, comes from all directions, shrill voices of predatorial fury coming at S.T.A.R.S. altogether!
"Back to the helicopter, now!" Wesker shouted.
Chris ran, Barry and Jill in front of him and Wesker bringing up the rear. The four of them sprinted through dark trees, unseen branches slapping at them as the howl grew louder, more insistent.
Wesker turned and fired blindly into the woods, they running while stumbling toward the waiting helicopter, its blades had spun.
Chris felt relief sweep through him; Brad must have heard the shots. They still had a chance.
He could hear the creatures behind them, the sharp rustling of lean, muscular bodies tearing through the trees. He could also see Brad's pale, wide-eyed face through the glass front of the helicopter, the reflected lights of the control panel casting a greenish glow across his panicked features. He was shouting something, but the roar of engine covered everything, the blast of wind churning the field into a rippling sea.
Another fifty feet, almost there.
Then, the helicopter somewhat jerked into the air, accelerating wildly. Chris caught a final glimpse of Brad's face and saw the blind terror on it, the unthinking panic that had gripped him as he clawed at the controls.
"No! Don't go!" Chris screamed, but the wobbling rails were already out of reach, the helicopter pitching forward and away from the through the thundering darkness.
They were going to die.
Dam you, Vickers!
Wesker turned and fired again, rewarded with a squeal of pain from one of their pursuers. There was at least four more behind, gaining on them rapidly.
"Keep going!" he shouted, trying to get his bearings as they stumbled on, the piercing shrieks of the mutant dogs urging them faster. The sound of the helicopter was dying away, the cowardly Vickers taking their escape with him.
Wesker fired again, the shot going wide, and saw another shadowy form join the hunt. The dogs were brutally fast. They would stand a chance, unless... the mansion!
"Veer right, one o'clock!" Wesker yelled, hoping that his sense of direction was still intact.
They couldn't outrun the creatures but maybe could keep them at bay long enough to reach that place. He spun and fired the last in his clip.
"Empty!"
Ejecting the spent magazine, he fumbled for another one tucked into his belt as both Barry and Chris took up the defense, firing past him and into the closing pack. Wesker slapped in the fresh clip as they reached the edge of the overgrown clearing and plunged into another dark stand of trees. They stumbled and dodged through the woods, tripping on uneven ground as the killer dogs came on.
Lungs aching for air, Wesker imagined that he could smell the fetid, rotting-meat stench of the beasts as they narrowed the distance and somehow found the capacity to run faster.
We should arrive by now, gotta be dose-
Chris saw it first through the thinning shadows of trees, the looming monstrosity back-lit by an early moon.
"There! Run for the house!"
It looked abandoned from the outside, the weathered wood and stone of the giant mansion crumbling and dark. The full size of the structure cloaked by the shadow of overgrown hedges that surrounded it, isolating it from the rest of the forest. A massive outset front porch presented double door, their only option for escape.
Wesker heard the snap of powerful jaws behind him and fired at the sound, intuitively squeezing the trigger as he ran for the front of the mansion. A gurgling yelp and the creature fell away, the howls of its siblings louder than ever, raised to a fever pitch by the thrill of the chase.
Jill reached the door first, slamming into the heavy wood with one should as she snatched at the handles. Amazingly, they crashed open; brightness spilled out across the stone steps to the porch, lighting their path.
She turned and started firing, providing cover while the three gasping men ran for the opening in the darkness.
They piled into the mansion, Jill diving in last and Barry dashed at the door, wedging it closed against the snarls of the creatures. He collapsed against it, face red and sweating as Chris found the entry's steel deadbolt and slid it home.
They have made it. Outside, the dogs howled and scrabbled uselessly at the heavy doors. Wesker took a deep breath of the cool, quiet air that filled the well-lit room and exhaled sharply.
He had known from the beginning, the Spencer Mansion wasn't abandoned. And now that they were here, all his careful planning was for nothing.
Wesker silently cursed Brad Vickers, wonders if they were any better off inside than out.
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