Morning light filtered through the cracked windows of the warehouse, its pale rays cutting through the lingering smoke from distant fires. The survivors were stirring, some gearing up for another day of survival, others simply savoring the rare moment of peace. Annette Birkin, clutching the precious vaccine in her hands, finally emerged from the shadows.
She had been keeping a low profile since joining the group, her stoic demeanor and sharp tongue ensuring no one pressed her too hard. But now, standing before the gathered RPD officers and the rest of the survivors, her presence demanded attention.
Marvin Branagh, who had been poring over a map with Leon, straightened when he saw her. "Dr. Birkin. I take it you're finally ready to share your secrets?"
Annette's sharp gaze met his, then flicked toward the rest of the group. She hesitated, her grip tightening on the vial of blue liquid in her hand. "This is the G-virus vaccine," she said flatly. "It's not a cure—it won't reverse the infection. But it can immunize the uninfected, preventing further spread."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the group. Cindy Lennox glanced at George Hamilton, who had been observing silently. "Doc," she whispered, "what do you think?"
George stepped forward, his calm demeanor steadying the room. "If she's telling the truth, this could be a turning point," he said, his voice measured. "But we'll need to test it to be sure."
Annette bristled, her tone defensive. "I developed this vaccine myself. It works."
George's expression didn't waver. "I don't doubt your expertise, Dr. Birkin. But you'll understand if we're cautious. Lives are at stake."
As George and Annette exchanged words, Azizah couldn't help but notice how the room's attention shifted. Annette's sharp intellect clashed with George's steady professionalism, but there was a mutual respect beneath their words.
David King leaned toward Kevin and muttered, "Well, she's got a fire in her, doesn't she?"
Kevin smirked. "You don't know the half of it."
Alyssa, standing near the door, crossed her arms. "I'll give her this—she knows her stuff. But I'd keep an eye on her. Umbrella scientists aren't exactly trustworthy."
Annette's attention shifted to the journalist. "I'm not here to earn your trust, Ms. Ashcroft. I'm here to fix what my husband and I helped destroy."
Alyssa raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, Cindy stepped between them, her tone conciliatory. "We're all on the same side here. Let's focus on making it through this, okay?"
As the conversation unfolded, Azizah's gaze flicked toward the shadows near the back of the room. Ada Wong was there, her presence almost imperceptible, but her sharp eyes missed nothing. She lingered just out of reach, as if deliberately avoiding the spotlight.
Azizah approached her, keeping her voice low. "Not going to introduce yourself?"
Ada's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm just observing. Dr. Birkin doesn't need me muddying the waters."
Azizah crossed her arms. "You're good at that, aren't you? Staying in the background."
Ada tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Sometimes, the best move is to let others play their hand first."
Azizah sighed, glancing back at the group. "Just don't wait too long. This isn't a game."
Ada's smile didn't waver. "Isn't it?"
Annette handed the vaccine to George, who inspected it carefully. His steady hands belied the weight of the responsibility now resting on him. "We'll need to administer this to someone soon," he said. "Preferably someone at risk."
"Not Sherry," Annette said immediately, her voice sharp. Her protective instincts were unmistakable.
George nodded. "Agreed. We'll start with one of the officers—someone exposed but not symptomatic. If it works, we'll know quickly."
Marvin spoke up, his tone firm. "We'll handle the distribution. For now, let's focus on getting out of this city alive."
Annette met his gaze, her expression softening slightly. "You're doing more than I expected from RPD, Lieutenant. Thank you."
Marvin offered a faint smile. "We're all in this together, Doctor."
Later, as the group settled into their routines, Annette found herself near George, who was organizing medical supplies with Cindy's help. She hesitated before speaking, her voice uncharacteristically tentative. "Dr. Hamilton."
George looked up, his expression neutral but open. "Annette."
She glanced at the supplies, then back at him. "You're a surgeon?"
"I was," George replied, his tone gentle. "Now I'm just another survivor trying to make a difference."
Annette nodded slowly. "It's strange, isn't it? How everything we built—our careers, our lives—feels so… irrelevant now."
George regarded her carefully. "Not irrelevant. Just… different. What we know can still help people. That's what matters."
Annette looked down at her hands, her voice softening. "I just hope it's enough."
Azizah watched from a distance as Annette and George talked, their guarded tones gradually giving way to something resembling camaraderie. It was a small step, but it felt significant.
Nearby, David was teaching Leon how to better fortify their makeshift barricades, while Alyssa grilled Jill about her experiences with Umbrella. Cindy and Claire worked together to prepare a basic meal for the group, their quiet laughter a rare but welcome sound.
Even Ada, though she kept to the shadows, seemed to relax slightly, her calculating demeanor softening as she watched the group bond.
For the first time since the outbreak began, Azizah felt a flicker of hope. They were stronger together, and as long as they stayed that way, they might just have a chance.
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To Be Continued...