45Right, so rewriting took a bit longer than I anticipated. Not only did I rewrite chapter 2, I had the brilliant idea of going back to others, so it's a little bit different. I wanted it to have less of a "he must've dimensionally traveled" feel. The main reason why it took so long? Gods, this chapter just did NOT want to take. Either my internet cut out mid-way or the website refused to save or I saved OVER it, I rewrote this so many times, there came different points where I was just tired of it. I couldn't access the backup save because it apparently didn't exist, so I wrote this again and again from scratch. And I still need to finish Chapter III and the Bonus. This epidemic isn't helping much either and my job is "essential", which means I'm always stressing out and...
Anyways, I'm not dead yet and I finished this! I also might've had yet another brilliant idea and started working on an original Zelda story... *cough*. Yeah, that won't be posted or primarily focused on until this one is finished. I don't even think it's good enough to bother... From now on, my account will be listing the books I'm (eventually planning on) working and what chapter I'm on, so if I haven't posted in a while and I don't want you guys being hung up on it, I'll write "Break" on the end. I don't wanna be that person that's gone for months... which I admittedly did. So here this is!
"Nothing is impossible to kill. It's just that sometimes after you kill something you have to keep shooting it until it stops moving." ~Mira Grant, Feed
The woman was staring.
Alex scowled as he observed her. She was young, late teens to early twenties, with her auburn hair pulled up into a ponytail and bangs framing her face in a way that made the blue in her eyes stand out. She had on a red leather jacket with a black tank top underneath, which was accompanied by jeans and a pair of leather ankle-high boots.
"So you're back... Just like you said."
The voice appeared to snap the woman out of her thoughts. Both she and Alex turned their attention to the side, where a dark male was holstering his gun. The name Marvin Branagh was attached to the right breast of his light blue uniform, also accompanied by the single gold bar pinned to his collar on either side. Without any threat in their current proximity, Branagh's form slumped and his hand fluttered to the wound in his abdomen. It was difficult to tell what sort of injury it was beneath the bandages and tape but Branagh appeared to be in bad shape. Alex felt like he knew what it was anyways.
His only response to the comment was a grunt. Without bothering to contribute to a conversation, he stalked past the woman in the direction of the doors. The first step was to secure the entry and ensure that no potential problems can get in the way of his questioning. Canon fodder were easy to kill but an absolute nuisance to mow through. It was bad enough that he felt as though he had wasted enough time.
"Friendly guy, isn't he," the woman muttered when she thought that Alex was out of earshot. The officer released a breathless chuckle, probably agreeing with the comment
"Don't judge him too quickly," Branagh then advised. "He did go in the hall to save you, after all. Wouldn't hear anything about it when I told him that the east side was full of zombies."
Not only did the east side have a few Infected here and there, the metal shutter had a piece of cardboard taped on it with Keep Out written in large, hard-to-ignore letters. It made Alex wonder if this woman had any common sense.
"Right..."
Alex had grabbed a bench that he began moving across the room. He had calculated the strength that a human of his stature should have and was moving furniture based on that strength. The result involved a lot of scraping on the wooden floor.
"Let me help you," Branagh said. He took a step forward before he was pinned by an icy glare.
"Not happening," Alex growled. "With that injury, you're a liability. You." He flicked his gaze to the woman. "Make sure he sits down and doesn't do anything stupid."
The woman gave him the dirtiest glare he had probably ever received but did as he said regardless. After she collected the laptop on the table and led the reluctant officer up the ramp to find some place to sit, Alex returned his focus to barricading the front door.
Regressing to human limitations was almost agonizing with how quick he wanted to be done with everything.
Once the door was secure, Alex strode over to the woman and the officer. They had chosen to sit on a bench with a laptop placed on Branagh's lap. They looked up once he was in their vicinity.
"You missed introductions." The officer motioned to himself before the woman. "I'm Marvin and that's Claire."
Their names weren't really of any importance to Alex. Regardless, he nodded and responded with a curt, "Alex." He attention remained solely on the officer. Now for answers. "Where am I?"
Branagh inclined an eyebrow. "You're at the police depart–"
"I know that," he grumbled. "I want to know what city I'm at. The last time I checked, this wasn't Manhattan."
Claire and Branagh glanced at each other with varying levels of confusion. The officer frowned before regarding Alex seriously. "You're in Raccoon City. Pennsylvania."
That was the place that tingled and squirmed in the back of his mind since he had first realized that this wasn't New York. Raccoon City, a medium-sized area with roughly 100,000 residents and home to both the Saint Michael Clock Tower and Raccoon City Zoo. How Alex had gotten here and why, he was quite certain that the answers rested in the mind of the person that he was using as a template. The only frustration he had was that he couldn't willingly access those memories– or any memories, really.
Alex scowled. "This Outbreak. How did it start?"
Branagh released a long sigh. It let him know that they had reached a crux in the problem. "Nobody kno– knew," he corrected. "There were speculations of course, conspiracy theories, but nothing concrete."
"Was there anything about companies? A place that worked on biological or genetical research? Pharmaceutical and chemical are just as plausible."
"The only places I can think of are the Gentek Research Facility and the Umbrella Corporation." Branagh furrowed his brows. "You don't think they're the cause of this."
"This Outbreak is a bioengineered virus," Alex responded distantly. "You can't make this without having the appropriate equipment. And creating a virus this catastrophic would require lots of work."
In all honesty, he was partial to investigating Gentek. It had more familiarity than Umbrella did, and it felt like something important was there. Something really important.
"This is probably going to hurt a bit but... Just–just come back when you can, okay? For me? ...I don't know why I'm even bothering to ask this; I doubt you can hear me..."
"Where can I find them?"
Branagh thought about it for a moment. "From what I heard, Umbrella had been destroyed earlier this week. Gentek might be in the same situation, but I'm not sure. There's not even a way to enter the facility without some sort of identification."
Alex huffed in irritation. He wanted their location, not their status, though it all might be the same to Branagh since the officer didn't know of his abilities. If he was choosing to withhold it... Well, judging from the man's personality, he probably thought that he was protecting Alex from wandering through a street full of infected. In reality, he was just being annoying.
"What about S.T.A.R.S.," Claire spoke up. When Alex and Branagh both stared at her blankly, she decided to elaborate. "They're the RPD's elite force, aren't they? If anyone knew about those two companies, wouldn't it have been them?"
A spark lit in Branagh's face. "Now that you mention it, S.T.A.R.S. had an incident a couple of months ago..." Alex's interest peaked.
"What incident?"
"It happened in late July... Over the course of months, there was this spree of murders that couldn't be solved. There were no motive or any leads, so the chief, Irons, handed the case over to S.T.A.R.S. They managed to narrow a search down to a section in the Arklay Mountains.. Bravo Team was sent to investigate. When they hadn't returned, Alpha Team went after them. Out of the twelve officers that went, only five came back." He frowned. "Official reports stated that the cause rested on a cannibalistic family and their attack dogs. S.T.A.R.S., on the other hand..."
"They said what really happened," Alex clarified. Branagh nodded.
"They talked about zombies, Tyrants, human experimentation, all of that created in an underground laboratory headed by Umbrella... Irons thought that they were making it all up to give each other some closure for the brutal loss of their teams. I thought the same too, up until a few days ago."
"...Do you know what happened to my brother," Claire asked. Her tone was tentative, almost as though she were afraid to ask. "Chris Redfield, my brother, he's in S.T.A.R.S."
"Chris?" Branagh blinked before a small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, he's alive. On vacation actually, in Europe."
"Europe," she breathed, and it was like all the tension she had was lifted off her shoulders. "Good. That's good."
Alex, on the other hand, was wondering what Redfield would be doing in Europe. If he was anything similar to Claire, then he most likely would have cared about his teammates. And, from what Alex could glean from his permanent residence of soldiers, any time members of a squadron underwent some form of hardship with one another, their bondage as brothers-in-arms grew stronger. It was further implied when that team pushed through a form of trauma that very few were likely to go through. S.T.A.R.S. appeared to be a perfect example of that, so why would he be across the continent instead of with his fellow teammates? Actually...
"Where are the other S.T.A.R.S. members?"
He had once more gathered the attention of Branagh and Claire. The officer barely managed a shrug before a pained grimace had overtaken his features. "Barry Burton and Rebecca Chambers are out of the city, on vacation just like Chris, but Jill Valentine has been missing since this mess started, and Brad Vickers..." The grief on Branagh's face was as clear as day. "Brad's gone."
With three former S.T.A.R.S. on vacation, it couldn't be a coincidence. Something in Europe had to be important then. Something regarding Umbrella...
Alex curled his fingers in frustration. It looked like Umbrella might be the cause of this mess, which meant that he was going to have to wait to investigate Gentek. His first priority was to wipe out the goddamn imbeciles in this city who thought that playing God was acceptable.
"I got what I came here for. Thanks."
And with that, Alex began walking away. He thought about heading to the second floor and leaving through a window, thus leaving the main hall relatively safe for Claire and Marvin. That idea was immediately yanked from his mind when he felt a hand grab onto his shoulder.
A snarl tore from Alex's lips before he could even think about it. He could feel his biomass coil just beneath the surface as he whipped around and shoved the person away. Their body, weaker than he had anticipated, stumbled back a few steps in an attempt to regain their balance by the time he held his fists up.
"What the hell is your problem," Claire hissed. Her blue eyes were like fire as she glared. Alex returned the expression with an angry scowl of his own.
"Don't touch me."
"Oh, so you're able to yank me down the hallway all you want, but I can't keep you from being a damn idiot?" Her glare intensified. "You're going to leave the station, right? And how the hell do you think you're going to be able to get through the streets?"
Alex relaxed his stance, though his expression hasn't eased up the slightest. He didn't understand why she cared. Shouldn't humans only bother with their own wellbeing? "Kill anything that tries to eat or shoot at me."
"With just your fists?" Claire didn't even wait to hear the affirmative resting on his tongue. "Look." She held up a small, black notebook. "The officer that died in the east hallway had this on him. He said that the way out was in here. Now, you can either risk your life going out into the streets or you can increase your chances of survival by helping me find the entrance."
Alex grit his teeth. He was going to go through the streets just as he planned, but he was perplexed as to why Claire had even cared. She obviously disliked him and he hadn't done anything to improve on that front, so why...?
Okay, fuck it. He'll humor her for now.
"Fine. Show me what you got."
Claire's glare had lost it's edge in her surprise. She had probably thought that he would refuse, which he would do after she showed him whatever she was talking about.
"Hold on, you said that an officer had that notebook?" Branagh held his hand out. "Let me see."
Claire was either too trusting or too naive because she lent it to the lieutenant without even a second of hesitation. Branagh pulled it close to observe before his features became grim and somber. "This was Elliot's."
A few seconds of silence passed then Branagh began to flip through the pages. It was more like a small sketchbook instead of a notebook. Elliot was a pretty decent artist. The deceased officer had made the looming effigy within the main hall, now known as the Goddess Statue, as well as various other statues quite detailed.
"It looks like you'll need to find some medallions hidden around here to open the statue. There should be a passage underneath." Branagh was handing the notebook back to Claire. She didn't seem to mind that it was now stained with his blood. "Find the medallions and get out of here."
The notebook was pulled from his hand and Branagh clutched the wound at his side with a grimace.
"We need to get you to a hospital," Claire informed.
Branagh shook his head. "No, there's no need. You two need to focus on escaping."
So the lieutenant never planned on coming along to begin with. Any time humans were given a chance of survival, they took it without hesitation. So why was he different?
Alex's gaze flicked to the injury that Branagh held. Perhaps he should have paid a closer mind to it. The blood was still fresh, indicating that it was about a day old, yet the man's pale pallor and sweaty skin indicated that it had to be infected. An infection only got that bad after a few days. In order to be this severe within a short time span, he had to have come across the virus. And now he was trying to make sure that he stayed away from them when he turned. Branagh was a Carrier.
"I'm not just going to leave–"
"You're bitten, aren't you?" Alex interrupted. Claire shot him a dirty look, which he carelessly shrugged off. His eyes had zeroed in on the wound that was still covered. Beating around the bush wouldn't help anyone. "That injury right there."
Branagh grimaced, and that alone answered Alex's question. "...Yeah."
"A bite..." Claire quietly repeated. She glanced over at Alex. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Think of it like a zombie movie. A virus spreads through bodily fluids, like blood or saliva, so when someone infected with the virus bites someone..."
"They turn..." she finished. Realization slowly dawned on her face and she widened her eyes as she stared at Alex. "You... You got bit too! In the hallway!"
She remembered that? Hell, he barely did. Alex hadn't even considered it to be important enough to. He huffed and rolled his sleeve back, showing her the unmarked skin. "Not bit."
The woman stared at his arm with disbelief. "But I saw..."
"Claire."
She turned her gaze towards Branagh. "Those supply crates over there by the counter... There should be a radio there. Will you go get it?"
"Yeah..."
Her gaze flicked to Alex's arm once more before she walked off. He barely managed to pull his sleeve down when Branagh called his name.
"Here." He held up an object in his hand. "Take it. You'll need it."
The object was a sheathed combat knife. Alex examined it momentarily before coming to a conclusion that it would snap like a toothpick in his hands. Besides, it wasn't like he needed it. "I'm fine."
"Just take the damn knife."
From the looks of it, Branagh wasn't going to take no for an answer. Alex huffed before reaching for the weapon. When he grabbed it, Branagh didn't let go like he had expected. No, he leaned forward.
"You take care of Claire, you hear?"
Alex scowled, now realizing what the officer was doing. "She can take care of herself."
"Really? Enough to get out of this city alone?" Branagh's lips pursed when it became apparent that this wasn't going to change Alex's mind. "Look, the S.T.A.R.S. office is here in the station. You'll find it and any possible answers they might have dug up, but only if you help Claire out. Deal?"
Alex grit his teeth in annoyance. He didn't need to help anyone to do anything.
But he also knew that Branagh was right. Claire might not even make it anywhere close to the edge of the city. And despite how much Alex seemed to piss her off, she was still willing to try helping him out even though she had no idea what he was capable of.
"Fine," he growled. Branagh let the knife go and he slipped it into his pocket, allowing his biomass to store it for him. "You have no idea what you're signing her up for."
After all, Alex hadn't played human any longer than he needed to, and bioengineered viruses tended to mutate quicker and more dramatic than a natural one. If there were Infected he couldn't tackle with human strength, he would go all-out. He didn't have any false hope that Claire wouldn't freak out once she saw what he could do either. In fact, he was willing to bet that she would shoot more than a few bullets at him.
"Maybe, but I think she'll be fine."
Right. Well, Alex will give a dying man the satisfaction of believing that he's right. It's not like what he thought would matter later on.
Claire walked back over, blissfully unaware of the conversation that took place as she clipped the radio to her waistline. It didn't mean that she didn't pick up on Alex's aggravation towards Branagh when she looked up. A frown grew on her pink lips. "Something happen?"
Silver eyes met blue but it was Branagh that answered.
"No, nothing."
"Uh-huh..." Claire's gaze remained trained on Alex as the man scoffed at the officer's words. Deciding that it was wise to put questions off till later, she focused the subject onto something else.
"Sorry, Alex. There was only one radio."
He grunted and waved her off with disinterest. "I'll grab the Lieutenant Branagh's later."
He walked away from them and started heading for the mesh gate that blocked off the receptionist room. When he realized that Claire hadn't move, he paused at the top of the ramp and glanced back. "Are you coming or not?"
She mumbled what sounded suspiciously like "Asshole" before she began to follow. Alex made his way to the gate and cut the tape covering the power box on the side. He expected it to be the control for the mesh gate but certainly hadn't expected it to be a switch. He inclined an eyebrow and pulled it down. The box beeped before the gate started rising.
"So you're from the Big Apple." Claire glanced at him. "Do you have any idea how you ended up in Raccoon?"
Alex's brows knitted together under his hood as the gate stopped moving and he strode into the receptionist area. His– Their memories were still a jumbled mess and he still had that distinct feeling that the people he had consumed were drugged. The only exception appeared to be the very person he derived his template from; Dr. Alexander J. Mercer. However, those memories were either incomprehensible fragments or missing sequences altogether.
"Not exactly..." He could remember Dr. Mercer shaking hands. A business deal? Then there was a familiar woman's voice... Dana? "I think I was with my sister."
To be accurate, Dr. Mercer's sister, but he still meant it. Alex felt attached even though he didn't think that he has ever had a conversation with her
Just come back to me when you can...
Were those words spoken to Alex or Dr. Mercer?
"You have a sister?" Claire's tone was full of disbelief. Alex had made his way over to the door, carelessly bypassing the bloodstains when she had said that. He looked over at her with a scowl. "Is that really so hard to believe?"
"No! ...Maybe a little. You don't exactly seem like the brother type."
He gave a grunt as his attention drifted back to the door. "You're probably right about that." His eyes narrowed. "But she's all I got right now."
Claire drew silent and Alex took that as a cue to move forward. He opened the door and walked through. Almost immediately, the atmosphere took a dramatic turn. Lightning flashed from outside and rain pelted the windows. The wind, mostly unheard in the main hall, drifted around as though the ghost a building was moaning.
"Talk about creepy," Claire muttered. Alex didn't exactly deign a response as he continued through the hall. The only thing that was remotely a threat was the body slumped against the wall at the end of the corridor, and it certainly wasn't towards Alex.
A radio crackled as they approached. Someone was talking into it, the sender cutting out at various points through the relay. All that Alex bothered to understand was that a helicopter would be approaching the station within fifteen minutes. It would be the perfect opportunity to get Claire out of here.
He glanced up at the corpse hanging from a pipe on the ceiling. When Alex reached for the radio attached to it's waist, the body's head split open and sent it to the ground. It landed on the device so hard that by the time Alex picked it up, wires were sprouting from the radio and it refused to turn on. He wouldn't be able to fix it without the tools that they were obviously lacking in.
"Yeesh... Look at this."
Alex flicked his gaze over to Claire and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He had thought that she was observing the radio on the body he had bypassed. Receiving messages were broken enough that he held no hopes that the radio would send any. Instead, Claire was holding up the head of the corpse, showing off the torn cheek muscle and hanging jaw of a body that was dead for a few hours, at the least.
He had told Branagh that Claire could take care of herself. Apparently he overestimated her.
"Try not touching dead bodies," Alex advised. He dropped his hand to his side to stare at her. "You don't know if they will get up to attack you."
He didn't know either and if he had taken a moment to apply the virus' genetic code to his own, he would be able to see the Infected. That was oversight on his part. "Now come on. We're burning night and I want to get you out of here by morning."
"I agree with you there..." Claire gave the body one last glance as they moved away.
They didn't get far before both of them came to a stop at the wall that conjoined the two corridors. A claw more was etched into the metal, strong enough bend it but not enough to rip it out. Claire ogled it with wide eyes.
"What do you think did that?"
Alex narrowed his eyes. An image of a large, reddish-pink figure with bulging muscles, sunken eyes, and lipless mouths permeated his mind shortly before he dissuaded it. Those creatures, Hunters, were much stronger and more than capable of tearing a hole through metal instead of bending the frame. Besides, the scent didn't match either.
He stepped forward and ran his fingers over the markings. They were more shallow than he had anticipated. Smaller, too. Alex speculated this creature to possible be around human height. It was quick and agile with what seemed to be a high jumping ability or climbing ability. And it's scent...
Alex's nose wrinkled at the faint stench of rotten flesh.
"The virus evolved," he stated. "Keep on eye on the ceiling. It can climb."
"Climb? You mean that this thing can get worse?"
"That's what bioengineered viruses are made for."
"You seem to know a lot about it..."
Alex took a moment to analyze the tone she used for that comment. It didn't sound accusatory, more like a statement. Had he been revealing too much about the virus? It did take one to know one, after all. The only other people that would know it just as well were the people who created it...
"Raaaagh!"
Claire jumped as an Infected slammed it's hands against the window. Alex grunted, finding the action more than a little annoying. He eyed the Infected with distaste as it continued to hit at the glass, it's dead eyes focused solely on Claire.
"Alex, she's going to get in."
That was true. Even as they watched, web thin cracks were spreading across the glass. The Infected lacked the brain activity to utilize their strength in any meaningful way. It was a wonder on what the creators were trying to accomplish. While it would work as a bioweapon, it was too faulty and couldn't be controlled.
"Let it."
Alex stepped to the side so that he was out of sight of the Infected. He flicked his gaze from the window to Claire. "Back up a few steps."
"...What are you planning," she asked. Nonetheless, she did as she was told and pulled her SLS Handgun out in preparation.
"I'm going to kill it."
The glass shattered and the Infected came toppling over the sill. Claire raised her gun to shoot at it, but Alex beat her to the punch. All he did was raise his foot up and bring it down while the Infected was about to get up.
"Well..." Claire stared as he pulled his bloodied foot out of the caved-in head. "You definitely killed it."
"Yeah." He grimaced as his stilled his biomass, which was tingling in excitement at the blood coating his shoe and the bottoms of his pant leg. If he absorbed it now, Claire would definitely know that something was up. He shifted his gaze to the hall and frowned when he caught the sight of the end of it. To make things worse, their route was cut off from a bunch of junk used to make a barricade. It looked like even the ceiling had collapsed, most likely the cause of some sort of explosion. There's no way he could move this with human strength.
"It looks like we're cut off."
"Yeah..."
Claire pushed through a pair of red double doors off to the side. Alex followed her in, observing the room for any mediocre threat. The room was scattered with papers and furniture, with a blood-covered map plastered on the white board in the back of the room. He spared a quick moment to glance at the yellow chain blocking the door before paying attention to the map.
S.T.A.R.S. office wasn't on the first floor. He should have expected it and asked Branagh about it's location before they left. Too late now. Besides, Alex didn't want to talk to the officer any longer than he had to; he might end up roped into something else.
The safety deposit room looks important, he mused. Weapons might be stored there and Alex would have to get something better than a knife if he intended to keep up with this charade. Like he had said, one hit and his knife was a goner.
"It looks like this place went to hell pretty quickly," Claire stated. "First the survivors started a fight that killed some officer then a mob attacked the station. They have one hell of a rep sheet." She strode over and peered at the map. "What are you doing?"
"Planning," Alex grunted. "I'll need a gun." He tapped the safety deposit room and the west office. "These are the only two places I can think of getting one. If not there, then I'll have to search every Infected with a police uniform we come across." It'll be easier to feign being human if he had something to put distance between him and the Infected.
Claire hummed in agreement. "Well, we can't get to those rooms through the doors. The one in here is chained and too thick for me to shoot off." Her gaze drifted over Alex's head and she moved in that direction. "We'll be able to slip through there."
She was talking about a window near the ceiling. The glass had long been broken and a pair of pallets were strapped in yellow tape underneath it, leaving a perfect route to the hallway. Claire had slipped past Alex and was already making her way on top of the pallets. She rested her hands on the wall as she peered over the sill to the other side.
"There's a zombie hitting a vending machine," she informed, pulling away to look at Alex. "It doesn't look like it'll notice us."
He responded with a curt nod. "Don't do anything about it until we are both on the other side."
"Alright."
Claire rested her fingers on the sill and hopped up. A small grunt could be heard from her as she swung one leg over, then the other, before quietly slipping off. Her landing was soft on the other side, too soft to interrupt the banging that could be heard.
Alex didn't hesitate to follow suit. When he landed, he glanced over to find Claire patting down a body to find some more ammunition. She didn't appear to have any qualms about scavenging off of a corpse. The makings of a true survivor.
"What about him?" She raised her gun up and aimed at the Infected. True to her earlier observation, the Infected was slamming his meaty fingers against a vending machine. That most likely proved that the virus retained something from the Infected's former life. One look at the zombified officer and it was easy to tell that the person it was before wasn't exactly the type to visit a gym.
"Let me handle it."
Claire furrowed her brows, quite obviously not liking that thought. She didn't have as much of an attitude towards Alex now then she had earlier either. That was good. It would be harder to protect her otherwise if she felt the need to rebel to make a point. "You need to save your bullets. Who knows what else we'll run into."
"...Okay," she relented and lowered her weapon.
With the firearm out of the way, Alex began moving towards the Infected. It was completely unaware of his presence until he was nearly upon it. Then, as if finally sensing the threat, it began to turn and face him. By then, it was too late.
Alex's fist collided with it's nose. The bone crunched satisfyingly beneath his knuckles and the force of his hit made the back of the Infected's head collide with the vending machine, sending cracks branching out in the plastic. He grabbed the Infected by the throat before it could even attempt to retaliate, then he began punching it repeatedly in the face.
It was a little amusing. The Infected's efforts to bite him were utterly futile, but that didn't stop it from trying.
Despite that, Alex knew that there was something missing from this ordeal. The widening of eyes. The rush of adrenaline. The fear. All of that was absent and Alex wished that it wasn't.
"Alex!"
Claire's cry of warning momentarily distracted him. It was rather unnecessary, since he heard the movements behind him long before she said anything. He released the Infected in his hand in favor of spinning around, a fist rounding towards the incoming corpse while it staggered and snarled towards him. Flesh met rotting flesh and the Infected went colliding into the other machine. It fell into an ungrateful heap and Alex had no issues introducing it's skull to his shoe.
With the nuisance gone, he faced the Infected he had originally started with and grabbed it's head in his hand. He slammed it against the vending machine and the plastic shattered. All it took was one last shove against a particularly sharp piece of plastic and the Infected slumped on the floor. It was only then that he took note of the expression plastered on his face. Torn between a snarl and a smile, his lips were pulled back to show way too many teeth for it to be natural. The expression dropped from his features in an instant, and silver eyes flicked back to see if Claire had caught it.
Of course she did.
Her own blue eyes were wide, her face entirely void of color. Even from here, he could hear her heart racing in her chest. It was a natural response when the hunted were in the presence of a hunter; Alex had expected it, he just thought that it would take a little bit more for time her to be looking at him like that. He didn't want fear from her. Not right now.
Space, his mind provided for him. That should do the two of them some good.
"W-wha–" Claire began. She didn't get far before she flinched away from Alex when he approached. He lips tugged downwards at that wide-eyed stare. It wasn't unfamiliar, but it was just as unwelcomed.
"Take the office. See if you can find anything useful in there." He nodded towards the safety deposit room. "I'll check in there. Shout if you get into in any trouble."
He didn't bother waiting for a response. Alex slipped past Claire and disappeared behind the metal door.
When it closed shut behind him, he paused and listened to the hallway. Claire was still standing there with her heart racing a mile a minute. She eventually took a deep breath. Her heartrate eventually slowed and she released a long, shaky sigh.
"Okay," she muttered quietly. "Let's do this."
Alex heard her boots move across the tile and the door across the hall had opened. It closed shut and muted the footsteps, informing him that Claire had gone into the west office. In all honesty, he almost expected her to hurry down the corridor and leave him behind.
He pushed away from the door and paid more mind to the locker room. There were a few items locked up and it made Alex wonder if they would do for an apology. He frowned as he contemplated what exactly he would be apologizing for. Killing the Infected? Scaring her?
Eliminating the threat had been necessary. It might have scared her, but at least Claire was still alive. He just hoped that the supplies would smooth things over.
Alex reached forward and pried the door in front of him open. True to it's name, the important lockers were indeed locked. All it took was a flex of his muscles and it was his for the grabbing. He went across each door and retrieved the items.
Then he reached the back of the room.
A gun was nestled contently within the weapon locker with some ammunition tucked beside it. It had a large, single black barrel with a smooth, red mahogany stock and matching grip. A GM-79, his mind informed. The knowledge most likely came from one of those soldiers he has lingering around. A grenade launcher.
He would admit, he was probably a little too eager to get his hands on the prize. Instead of popping off the door like he intended, Alex had made the mistake of ripping it off. He blinked once at the door in his hand before tossing it aside. He returned his attention to the gun and lifted it from it's resting place. Alex grinned as the firearm in his hands.
Oh, hell yeah.
He couldn't wait to try this thing out.
