Chapter 7
It took two days for Umbrella to return Leon’s wallet to him. After his decontamination, he told them they could dispose of his clothing, but he forgot about his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. When he asked about it, he was told they would return it to him as soon as possible, but took them two whole days to track it down and return it.
Leon wondered if he should have bothered. His wallet, once a nice, rather expensive leather one, was now a stiff, dry piece of cardboard. Whatever chemicals and solvents they sprayed it with completely ruined the leather. Leon dumped the contents out and tossed the wallet in the garbage. His driver’s license, military identification, credit cards, and other pieces of plastic were relatively unharmed, as was the spare key to his jeep. But anything made of paper was gone, destroyed by the chemicals, including his social security card and other paperwork. Whatever cash he carried was gone as well, but someone was nice enough to replace the currency with a small stack of crisp, new twenty dollar bills.
Not that Leon had anything to spend it on at the moment. After the decontamination – a procedure that Leon did not want to experience again any time soon – Umbrella boarded them on a private plane and flown them to a recovery center in upstate New York. It was a quaint little hospital complex surrounded by trees and picturesque meadows, with smiling attendees and friendly, soft-spoken doctors and therapists asking them if they were okay and if they needed help with anything. They were all assigned their own private room, complete with a bed, dresser, desk, television, and large windows looking out on the wilderness beyond the front gates.
Leon, Claire, and Sherry were not the only residents. There were at least forty people at the recovery center, and most of them, it seemed to Leon, shared a similar experience in Raccoon City. That is, running for their lives and fighting off the hordes of undead. None of these survivors were rescued early, none of them harbored any illusions about the reality of the infection, and all of them were forced to fight and kill zombies in order to survive.
Their seclusion at the isolated recovery center was explained when they all watched the news the following day and realized that the United States government and the Umbrella Corporation joined forces to give the American public a watered-down, sanitized version of the infection. Leon supposed that he should not have been surprised. He should have known far ahead of time that there was no way that the government was ever going to tell people that Raccoon City was overrun with zombies. But when he watched the initial news reports, complete with their coverage of the destruction of Raccoon City, he still felt shocked that they were going to try to smooth over the truth.
Everyone at the recovery center knew they were lying, but strangely, none of them said it out loud. They all watched the news in silence, accepting this new version of events. None of them spoke out, none of them complained, none of them said anything. It was as if they all implicitly agreed that this was the best course of action. That it was better to just hold their tongue and put the past behind them. Besides, the story told by the news reporters was close enough to the truth that it really didn’t matter. It was still an unimaginably horrific outbreak and thousands of people still died. Nitpicking the particulars of the infection would serve no purpose, at least as far as Leon was concerned.
It was better to keep the truth hidden. Some things were better left kept secret.
There were repeated interviews and conversations with the therapists and counselors on staff, done in the guise of aiding recovery and dealing with the emotional trauma. But Leon suspected that the real intention was to reinforce the wisdom of this new reality. Subtle persuasion and gentle guiding to make them all accept that they had not actually seen the dead come back to life. It was all a mistake, an exaggeration. It would be best if they all came to realize the truth that zombies don’t exist, and the people infected in Raccoon City just behaved that way. The news reports were giving an accurate description of events and everyone should agree that is what really happened.
There was no obvious coercion going on, no blatant attempts to force anyone to keep silent, nothing so deliberate. Just a supportive, inoffensive kind of persuasion, almost as if they were merely asking the survivors to keep a secret without ever acknowledging that there was even a secret to keep.
Leon just went along with it. He just nodded and repeated what the counselors said until they were sufficiently convinced that he was not going to contradict the official version of events. They had already given him permission to leave the compound, but he was sticking around a bit longer to give Claire and Sherry more time. He didn’t want to leave without them.
He stood in his room, tucking the contents of his discarded wallet into the side pocket of his suitcase, which along with his current wardrobe, had been furnished by Umbrella. His own clothes were gone of course, so they gave him a new set of clothes and other personal items such as a toothbrush and a comb, and even a new sports watch which currently adorned his wrist. He had already packed some of the clothes into the suitcase, getting ready to leave as soon as Claire and Sherry were ready.
He heard footsteps out in the hall and then a gentle tapping on his door. It was probably one of the counselors or nurses coming to ask if he needed help with anything. Anyone caught spending too much time alone was destined to be bothered non-stop about it.
“Come in,” Leon said in the most bored-sounding voice he could manage.
The door opened, but Leon didn’t even turn to see who it was. He kept his attention on the clothing he was stuffing into the suitcase, hoping that if he ignored them, they would go away.
“Hey, Kennedy, think fast,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Leon turned quickly and saw a fluttering dark shape come flying at him. He instinctively leaped to the side, swinging his arm out defensively, swatting the shape aside and spinning around to face the person standing in the doorway, slipping into a martial arts stance without even thinking about it. He glanced down at his arm to see that the dark shape was nothing but a folded up jacket, currently wrapped around his forearm. Upon closer inspection, he realized with a start that it wasn’t just any jacket, it was his own fur-lined aviator’s jacket. The last time he saw it, it was in his jeep. When the jeep was stolen by the woman he rescued, the jacket was gone with it, never to be seen again.
Or so he had thought. He finally looked up at the figure standing in the doorway and for a few moments was at a loss for words.
It was a man a few inches taller than Leon, wearing a gray combat uniform, the sleeves rolled up on the muscular arms, which were currently crossed over the man’s wide chest. His muscular bulk seemed to fill the doorway, but he carried himself effortlessly, as if the physical strength was just part of his uniform. He had a broad face with chiseled good looks, and his light blond hair was cut short and smoothed back.
It took Leon a minute to put a name to the face. When he spoke, it was with a sense of disbelief. “Jack? Is that you?”
The man chuckled softly and walked into the room, lowering his arms and letting them hang at his sides. “Your reflexes haven’t slowed down at all, that’s good to know,” he said with a wide smile. “It’s good to see you, man. Been too long.”
Leon tossed his jacket on the bed and walked up to the man, swinging his hand up in a strong sideways slapping motion. The man swung up his opposite hand in return and the two of them clasped their hands together in a forceful handshake. Leon laughed and slapped the man’s shoulder.
“Jack! My God, what in the hell are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, of course. Why else would I be in a place like this?”
“I mean, how did you know where to find me? How did they even let you in here?”
Jack shrugged and turned sideways, enough for Leon to see the special insignia on the shoulder of his gray uniform. It was a red and white octagon, with the letters UBCF etched underneath.
Leon’s smile faded and he l
ooked up at his old teammate. “Umbrella? Jack, please don’t tell me you work for them.”
“Sorry, man,” Jack said with a shake of his head. “I got to pay the bills somehow.”
“But Umbrella?”
“They recruited me less than a month after I was discharged,” Jack explained. “They’re always looking for people like us, guys with military experience. Especially guys like me. You know, guys who maybe don’t have a lot of other opportunities, you know what I’m saying? The pay is good and the training is excellent. How could I say no to that?”
“But you must know about ...” Leon let the sentence hang.
Jack nodded shortly and looked away. “Yeah, I know some things. I guess they weren’t totally honest with me when they recruited me, but I sure can’t turn back now. There’s a lot worse things I could be doing with my life. You know that.”
“I suppose so,” Leon said.
Jack had been part of Leon’s squad when he was still in the Rangers. Fun loving, fearless, and loyal, Jack had been almost the perfect teammate. That is, except for his affinity for drugs and loose women. He was caught red-handed with a trunk full of methamphetamines when he was stopped by the military police in the middle of a raid. As it turned out, Jack was not only dealing on the side, he was also involved in a prostitution ring right on the base. He ratted out his partners in return for a lesser sentence, but he was still kicked out of the military in the aftermath of the scandal. Leon hadn’t seen or heard from him in over two years.
“Let’s not talk about the past,” Jack said, smiling again. “I just about fainted when I saw your name on the list of survivors. Could not believe my eyes, man. I wanted to come see you in person and give you your coat back.”
“My coat,” Leon said, glancing back at it to make sure it was still there and he hadn’t imagined it. “How in the world did you find it. Where did you find it?”
“We got your jeep too,” Jack said. “Right now it’s at an impound yard in Rochester. A lot of folks drove out of the city in whatever vehicles they could find, so they had to check the registration to see who the owners were. That’s when your name popped up.”
“You have my jeep?” Leon said, completely flabbergasted. “You mean that woman made it out of the city?”
Jack shrugged again. “I don’t know anything about a woman, all I know is that your jeep made it out. It’s not in great shape though. Looks like somebody entered it in a demolition derby, and the cleanup crews ripped out most of the interior for the decontamination. It’s yours if you still want it, though, and Umbrella will pay to have it repaired if you want.”
“Wow,” Leon said, shaking his head. The last time he saw his jeep, a woman that he rescued was driving it away, abandoning him in the city. He got out to investigate some gunfire, and the woman took the opportunity to steal the jeep to try to save her own life. Leon didn’t even remember her name, but he didn’t really blame her for what she did. He could not bring himself to condemn someone for actions taken at the height of blind panic. But he was still amazed that she managed to make it out of the city as well.
“If you’re in the UBCF,” Leon said, “then were you ...”
Jack shook his head. “No, man. My unit was stationed in Honduras. We didn’t get called in here until the morning after … well, you know. A lot of Umbrella’s forces didn’t make it out either, and they’re so short-handed they’ve called in pretty much every non-active unit they have.”
“You were one of the lucky ones then.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Jack said sincerely. “I saw the reports, I can’t even imagine what you must have went through. And I know you might not be cool with Umbrella right now, but those guys did their best, man. A lot of good soldiers sacrificed their lives trying to save people, I hope you understand that.”
“I do,” Leon said. “I actually ran into some of the UBCF at one point, and I know they were good men. They were fighting for their lives just like everyone else. I wish more of them could have made it out. Have they released any numbers on how many men they lost?”
“Six thousand,” Jack said quietly. “Out of barely seven. They lost six men for every man who made it out alive.”
“Jesus,” Leon whispered. “I had no idea they lost so many.”
“Umbrella hasn’t released that information to the public. In fact, they haven’t even told the media that they sent in the UBCF at all.”
“Why not? It would prove that they were trying to stop the infection and save lives.”
Jack could only shrug. “I don’t know, man. They probably figure people are more concerned right now with the civilians who died. Once the survivors get a chance to talk to the media, then they’ll talk about how the UBCF was involved.”
Leon hadn’t even considered that the media would inevitably want to interview every single survivor, including him. Once his name was released, he would probably be inundated with phone calls and requests for interviews. The thought made him sick to his stomach. The last thing in the world that he wanted was to be forced to tell his story a hundred times on talk shows and news programs.
Jack seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “The names of most of the survivors were released this morning,” he said, somewhat apologetically. “Right now the media don’t know you’re here, but they’ll find out soon enough. When are you planning on leaving and heading home?”
“Tomorrow, maybe,” Leon said distractedly. “I came here with some other people – other survivors, I mean – and once they’re ready to leave, I’m leaving with them.”
“You made it out with some other folks, then?” Jack said with a smile. “That’s good, man. When I saw your name on the list, I knew you couldn’t have escaped that city by yourself. You don’t give up on anybody. If I know you like I think I do, then you must have fought like hell for those folks.”
Leon shrugged off the compliment. “I’m sure they think so. But I just did what I thought was right. You know I’ve never considered myself a hero.”
“Well, you’ve always been wrong, then,” Jack said.
“You want to meet them?” Leon asked, trying to change the subject. “They’re probably downstairs in the recreation room. I can introduce you.”
“That would be fantastic. My uniform won’t bother them, will it?”
“I don’t think so,” Leon said.
They left his room and headed down the hall. Even though it was normally wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, Jack had to walk a step or two behind Leon because otherwise their shoulders would rub against the wall.
“I hate to say this, but I got another reason for coming here to see you,” Jack said. “When my bosses found out that I knew you, I told them that we served in the Rangers together. I was gonna ask permission to come see you, but they ordered me to before I had time to ask.”
“They ordered you here?”
“Yeah. Since you have a military background, you know. And since you have very important first-hand experience dealing with … this kind of situation, they wanted me to ask you –”
“Not a chance,” Leon interrupted. “Tell them they can kiss my ass.”
“I will do that,” Jack said. “But even if they didn’t tell me to ask you, I probably would have anyway. If you don’t mind me saying so, we could really use good guys like you, Leon.”
“I don’t mind you saying so,” Leon said, just so Jack knew that Leon wasn’t angry at him. They descended a staircase, passing a nurse who nodded politely to them as she went up. “But they’re crazy if they thought I would say yes. They can’t expect me to join the UBCF, not after what I’ve seen and what I’ve gone through.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jack explained. “But they would like you to, you know, maybe help them out. Maybe work out a training program. Something to help the UBCF deal with situations like this. A lot of our men died because t
hey weren’t really trained for something on that scale. If you could give them your knowledge, they might be better prepared next time.”
“Next time?” Leon asked. “Are you suggesting that something like this could ever happen again?”
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Jack slowed down and looked around. No one was nearby to overhear them, but he still spoke in a low voice. “Listen, man, I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you this, alright? But this outbreak ain’t the first, and it ain’t gonna be the last. Especially not now, not after this.”
“What are you trying to say?” Leon asked.
“I’m saying that Umbrella ain’t gonna be able to recover from this. But they got laboratories all over the world, you know? And that disease that broke out in Raccoon City is studied in lots of those labs. What do you think’s gonna happen if some of those labs have to close, or get bought out by Umbrella’s competitors?”
Leon didn’t know, so he said nothing. He knew that Umbrella was a worldwide corporation, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they ran laboratories spread across the globe that worked with the same compounds as the lab in Raccoon City. Suddenly, he felt a shiver run down his spine, at the thought of some other lab somewhere having an outbreak as well. He felt stupid for not thinking of it long before now, but his experiences in Raccoon City remained on the forefront of his thoughts and he had little time for speculation about what might happen elsewhere.
“Umbrella’s kept it a secret for a long time,” Jack continued, and Leon realized just how much trouble Jack would be in if Umbrella ever found out what he was saying. He also realized just how much Jack trusted him, and he wondered if he really deserved such trust. He didn’t owe Jack anything, and he had as much reason to hate Umbrella as anyone.
“But now people know about the disease, and once Umbrella starts breaking up their company, that means they’re gonna have to transport all those samples to new labs. And the odds of another outbreak increase about a thousand percent. And what happens if some other company buys out Umbrella in a few years and gets possession of all their research? They aren’t gonna be prepared to deal with something that dangerous, and they won’t have the safety procedures in place that Umbrella has built up over the years.”
“Jesus,” Leon whispered, rubbing his forehead.
“You asked me if I was suggesting another outbreak might happen?” Jack said. “No, I’m telling you that another outbreak is gonna happen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened in less than five years. Once Umbrella falls apart, they won’t be able to keep a tight lid on it anymore, and that research is gonna spread out and eventually it’s gonna fall into the wrong hands.”
“Oh my God,” Leon said, his head snapping back up. “You mean ...”
Jack nodded. “You think some crazy religious fundamentalist won’t want to get a sample of that disease so he can start Armageddon or some shit? Some terrorists get a hold of a sample and they can hold the whole damn world hostage.”
Leon knew he was right. It was a common fact among the intelligence community that the odds of a secret being revealed increase exponentially for each person in on the secret. The same held true for Umbrella’s secret research. If only a small number of high-ranking scientists knew about the disease then they could possibly keep it contained. But now the whole world knew about it, and if Jack’s prediction was true about Umbrella breaking up their company, then more and more people would have to be brought in to deal with their top secret research. New scientists, new managers, whole new companies might all of a sudden be given knowledge of the disease. And eventually, one of those new people might make a mistake, or might get greedy, or who knows what else.
“You understand now why I’m asking you?” Jack said. “Most of the other people who survived don’t have the background to help us. But you’re military – hell, you’re one of the smartest soldiers I’ve ever known. You can tell the UBCF what you learned, you can help devise tactics, develop training programs. They need guys like you, Leon.”
“You’re going to have to give me a few days to think about it,” Leon said after a few moments. “I can’t promise you anything right now, but I’ll think about it. I just need some time.”
“Thank you,” Jack said, obviously relieved. “I’m sorry if I laid it on a little thick, and I don’t want to try to guilt you into anything. But we’re desperate right now, man. Almost all the men we had with real experience didn’t make it out alive.”
“I understand, and it’s okay,” Leon said. “And I’m glad you decided to tell me.”
He didn’t hold a grudge against Jack for anything. In fact, he felt angry at himself for not realizing sooner how much the UBCF really needed his help. He was so caught up in his own situation, concerned over Umbrella’s distortion of the facts and still brooding about what he had done and seen, that he hadn’t stopped to wonder about the bigger picture.
His unique experiences and knowledge would be very valuable if there ever was another outbreak. The real question, however, was whether or not Umbrella was really deserving of that knowledge. The soldiers in the UBCF may have acted honorably and bravely, but the fact remained that they worked for the very company responsible for the outbreak in the first place. Leon wondered if maybe his experience would be better put to use by the government instead of Umbrella.
“We can talk about this again later,” he said, leading Jack through a set of doors into the recreation area. “Let’s introduce you to Claire and Sherry.”
Resident Evil Legends Part Seven - Aftermath Page 7