Resident Evil Legends Part Three - The Mansion Incident

by Andreas Leachim

  Chapter 21

  No one ever accused Barry Burton of being unprepared, but as he navigated the labyrinthine hallways of the underground scientific labs, he wondered if he brought enough bullets. He came to the mansion carrying two full reloads and ten extra bullets, in addition to the bullets already loaded in his gun. That made twenty-eight bullets, plenty for any normal police situation. Gunfights and shoot-outs rarely lasted as long as they did in the movies. And usually in those situations, there were ways to get more bullets if he needed them.

  But he was down to half of his available bullets. Including the zombie he just killed in the last room, he used fourteen shots so far. Fourteen bullets remained. Six in the chamber, one full reload, and two extras. And no way for him to get any more.

  How many more zombies would he to find? He felt confident that he could kill them all with one shot to the head, but he did not think he was even close to making his way through all of the labs. What if he encountered more than fourteen zombies before he got out? And even more worrisome, what if he ran into something that required more than a few shots to kill? What if he ran into that woman from the mansion lobby again?

  He made his way down another identical hallway. He wondered how the people who worked here ever made their way around without getting lost. What he really needed was a map of the place.

  Suddenly, he heard a slamming noise and a gunshot. He ran off in the direction of the noise, turned a corner, and saw an open door leading to another lab. From inside, he heard someone ruffling around papers.

  He drew his gun instinctively, but wondered who could possibly be in that room that he would need to shoot. It must be another member S.T.A.R.S. He supposed it might be a living security guard who worked here, but Barry didn’t think anyone who worked here was still alive.

  He moved into the doorway and aimed his gun.

  And found Wesker standing there, aiming his gun back at Barry. He lowered it immediately and took a deep breath. In his other hand were some sheets of paper from one of the lab tables, papers he’d apparently been sorting through when Barry entered. “Barry ... Jesus, I thought you were another zombie ...”

  “Where the hell have you been?” Barry shouted, coming into the room. There was a dead zombie lying against the wall, the reason for Wesker’s gunshot a few moments ago. “I thought we were going to meet in the lobby in ten minutes? What happened to you?”

  Wesker slid his pistol back into the holster at his hip with an exasperated sigh. “Did you go into the same room I went into?”

  “Yes, when you never showed up. You weren’t there.”

  “When I went inside, one of the bookcases was pulled away from the wall. There was some kind of hidden staircase behind it. I went inside and the bookcase closed after me, and then I couldn’t get the stupid thing to open back up.”

  “Why didn’t you wait for us?”

  “I was going to, but then I heard some strange noises down the stairs. I investigated and ... and I ran into some ...” Wesker motioned feebly toward the dead zombie. “I must have gotten turned around or something. I decided to just keep going and maybe find another way to get back to you and ...” He paused then, as if just realizing something. “Wait, where’s Jill at?” he asked, stunning Barry by the genuine concern in his voice.

  “We got separated,” Barry said. “We had troubles of our own.”

  Wesker leaned his back against the lab table and took another deep breath. He glanced at the papers in his hand and then angrily threw them into the air. They scattered and floated to the floor like feathers. Wesker turned around and put his elbows on the table, leaning forward to put his head in his hands.

  “Have you seen anyone else? Anyone from Bravo?”

  Barry hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Yes. I found Kenneth.” He left it at that, letting Wesker decide if he wanted more information or not.

  “I think they’re all dead,” Wesker said abruptly, staring at the wall. “And I think we’re next. I don’t think we’re going to get out of here alive, Barry.”

  Barry was stunned speechless. Never in the entire time he worked with Wesker did he hear him say something so negative. Wesker was not exactly an optimist, he was always a realist. But he never betrayed his fears or concerns when on a job. He was always professional and straightforward, focusing on the goal at hand and ignoring or minimizing the difficulties. One of Wesker’s great strengths as a police officer was his unwavering confidence and inner resolve.

  To see Wesker just giving up hope and surrendering to despair was the last thing Barry expected to see. Barry saw some terrifying things already tonight, but what did Wesker witness to make him act this way? Barry knew that everyone has their emotional breaking point, but he always believed Wesker’s was even above his own.

  “We can get out of here, Wesker,” he said, trying to sound supportive. “Listen, I know how to get back upstairs to the mansion.”

  “You do?” Wesker asked, his head jerking up.

  “I took an elevator to get down here. I can retrace my steps back to it and we can use it to get back upstairs.”

  Wesker clearly liked the idea, but he remained pessimistic. “But how will we get away from here? I mean, Brad never answered on the walkie-talkie.”

  “We wait for daylight,” Barry said. “We haven’t radioed in since we got here. They’ll come looking for us. Besides, Brad has to go somewhere. He’s probably hiding out right now, but he has to return to the station eventually. Maybe he’ll come back when the sun comes up.”

  “Yeah,” Wesker said. “That’s a good idea. Maybe we should try that.”

  In a strange way, Barry felt sorry for Wesker. Somehow, in the past hour or two, his entire demeanor changed. He saw or witnessed something so traumatic that it erased any sense of confidence or self-assurance. The last time Barry saw him, he was his normal authoritative, no-nonsense self. But now, he was like a scared child.

  “Come on, then,” Barry said.

  They went back out into the hallway and Barry led the way back in the direction he came from. He preferred to move forward, but at the moment, he felt that helping Wesker was more important than satisfying his own curiosity and learning the truth about this place. It was an unlikely coincidence that he found Wesker at all, but it was a fortunate one.

  An incredible coincidence, really. What were the odds that they would make it to the same place in the labs by completely different routes and meet each other there? As they walked, Barry tried to visualize how Wesker made it there before he did. He had a very precise sense of direction, which was how he knew the way back to the elevator, and it just seemed totally unlikely that he and Wesker would have just bumped into each other like that.

  He replayed the scene in his head. Something about Wesker’s behavior just seemed inconsistent. Wesker had experience in dangerous situations, just like Barry did, and he never lost his cool. Granted, this was unlike anything they saw before, but Barry gave Wesker a lot of credit. He could imagine Jill freaking out and losing it, but not Wesker.

  Barry slowed his pace as they walked. Suddenly, he heard the sound of metal sliding against leather. For a career police officer, it was the unmistakable sound of a gun being pulled from a holster.

  Acting on instinct, he yanked his own gun out and spun around. Wesker grabbed his arm and pushed it away, at the same time jamming his own pistol directly under Barry’s chin. Barry grabbed Wesker’s arm but Wesker got him off balance and pushed him into the wall. Despite Barry’s advantage in size and strength, Wesker effectively pinned him. He held Barry’s arm against the wall and pressed own gun right into Barry’s neck.

  “Drop it,” Wesker said calmly.

  Barry stared at him for just a moment before complying. The Colt clattered to the floor at their feet.

  “I’m sorry about the act back there, but I wasn’t sure how to go about doing this. I couldn’t afford to underest
imate you. You’re not an easy man to fool, Barry.”

  “You did a pretty good job,” Barry grunted, holding back his anger. Wesker held him for the moment, but Barry would not let Wesker keep that advantage for long. The second Wesker let his guard down, Barry was going to shove that gun right down his throat. “I guess you fooled just about everybody.”

  “Don’t take it personally.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. And while you’re at it, don’t make any assumptions about our friendship.”

  Barry smiled a brutal, vicious smile. “I don’t make friends with traitors.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” Wesker said. “You think I’m a traitor, but you have it backwards. I’m not breaking any loyalties, because I was never loyal to the police in the first place.”

  “You’ve worked there for ten years.”

  “Yes, and I’ve worked for Umbrella for fifteen. So let’s get all these silly feelings of betrayal out of the way. Because I want you to know that it’s about to get much, much worse.”

  “Oh, really? If you were going to kill me, you already would have.”

  “True. But you aren’t the person I’m threatening to kill.”

  Wesker kicked the Colt away from them, far out of Barry’s reach. And then he quickly let go of Barry’s arm and stepped back, keeping the gun aimed directly at his head. Without glancing away from Barry for even an instant, he removed a cell phone from his pocket and dialed. He held the phone to his ear for a second and said, “It’s me. Are you ready?”

  He tossed the phone to Barry, who looked at it for a second, and then reluctantly put it to his own ear. “Who is this?” he said.

  The voice on the other end spoke in a heavy accent, but Barry could not place it. Russian, possibly. “Hello, Mister Burton. Right now, I am holding a knife against your beautiful wife’s throat.”

  Barry felt his entire body go cold. His breath seemed to freeze in his chest and his eyes went blurry. Jennifer?

  “Here, I will even let you talk to her. I am sure you have much to ask, but you can direct your questions to Mister Wesker. Here now, you may say hello.”

  There was silence on the line for a moment, and then, “Barry? Oh, Barry ... why is this happening?”

  “Jennifer?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “What’s going on, Barry? He ... he tied us up and he said he’ll kill us ... Barry, I’m so scared ...”

  “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to do whatever they want ...”

  “I love you, Barry –” The phone was jerked away from her and the Russian voice returned. “Okay, Mister Burton. I think we now have an understanding, yes? Your beautiful wife and pretty little girls will remain safe as long as you do everything you are told. I am hanging up now.”

  The phone went dead. “I love you, Jenny ...” Barry said weakly, and let his arm fall to his side, dropping the phone. He lifted his head and looked at Wesker, unable to feel any hate or anger to compete with the utter fear and sadness he was now overwhelmed by.

  For the first time that night, Barry felt fear.