Chapter 22: Decontamination Protocol

Claire, Rick, and Sherry, who was in his arms, were standing in front of the entrance of the laboratory. The latter’s bracelet had been swiped in front of the door’s screen and unlocked. Rick gave a questioning glance to Claire, who quickly told him about Sherry’s parents. By the time the three consecutive hydraulic doors were completely open, she was done.

“So her father… is searching for a… perfect mate and said perfect mate is the closest person to his DNA?”

Claire winced when Rick put it like this. “Yeah… That’s not…”

“That man is fucked up.” He walked inside with a stoic expression. Clearly the incest part of the virus disgusted him.

“Welcome to NEST. Enjoy your visit.”

Rick ignored the pre-recorded voice and kept going deeper, Claire by his side. “Between him and Irons… Using orphan children for experimentation… I knew something was wrong with that place.”

Only then did Claire realize that had Rick not chosen to live in the streets, he could have ended up in the orphanage and been used as a test subject. More than that, his immunity to the virus would have made him a prime specimen. The thought turned her stomach.

They entered the very first room they saw. It was facing the reception desk and turned out to be the security room. It had a bed, and Rick gently laid Sherry down on it. While Claire made sure she was well situated, Rick was already looking around. He found shotgun shells, which he put in the empty slots of his carrier belt, and found a plan of the entire complex.

“Claire.” He called out while looking at the computer to the side.

“Yeah?” She walked to his side to look at the screen.

“There is an anti-viral agent. Annette was telling the truth.”

Claire felt relieved to hear that. She had trusted Annette, of course. Her daughter’s life was at stake after all, but seeing an official notice saying a cure existed was something more tangible than simple words.

Reading further, she frowned. “We need to hurry, it doesn’t work after…”

Rick interrupted her with sarcasm. “I’m a street kid, Claire. Not illiterate.” Before she could say anything, he turned her around and pushed her towards the door. Once outside, he handed her the map he found. “We’re here.”

She took stock of it. “We won’t find it in this area. There is only a cafeteria and a nap room.”

She looked at the huge door on the left, leading to the rest of the complex. On it was a display screen, like the cable car or the entrance, but this time something was different. There were two identical symbols instead of one. Two vertical bars, one higher than the other.

“I don’t think we can go through there, and it’s the only path.” Claire raised the bracelet in her hand and showed it to Rick.

He immediately understood what she was talking about and sighed. “Let’s search the reception.”

She silently nodded and went behind the desk to find some information on the active terminal. At the same time, Rick went to the back room to her left. There wasn’t anything interesting there, no resources beyond plastic cups, a coffee machine, and a few coats. It was clear it was the break room for whoever was working as a receptionist. As he turned around to leave, he saw a bulletin board against the wall with only one official memo.

“ID wristbands… Claire!” He grabbed the paper and went to his partner, who had moved away from the reception desk. “Look.”

She took the page and, as she usually did, read aloud.

“This research facility uses the latest security technology in order to ensure employee safety and efficient business practices.

In order to enter and exit the facility, and to operate certain equipment, employees must use an ID Wristband.

There are three levels of access:

Visitor

General Staff

Senior Staff

Authentication is granted based on an electronic chip inside the wristband. The wristband access level can be changed by simply inserting a different electronic chip.

Visitor wristbands can be given to family members of employees. Please enquire at reception for further details.”

Rick shared his mind then. “Let’s hope there is a member of the general staff in the cafeteria or the nap room.”

“There is!” Claire’s eyes were wide. She turned around and sat back on the chair to check the computer again, pointing at a name. “This is the nap room log. It’s reserved for general staff. Here, look! Wayne Li, entered at 20:06 but there is no time filled for his departure! He’s still there!”

“Probably a zombie,” Rick corrected.

“It doesn’t matter!”

Claire stood up and grabbed his hand, dragging him all the way around the reception desk to reach the door leading to the cafeteria. She let him go to draw her gun, while Rick took his shotgun from his back, checking it was fully loaded.

The door opened and she stepped in first. Or tried. Rick grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. Faster than she could, he waved his weapon in front of her face.

“Me first, or you’ll be in the way.”

Claire frowned and her mouth widened to say something, but didn’t. Rick had a point; with his shotgun, which had a spread, she’d be in the way of him firing, while with her gun the bullet shot in a straight line. It was better for her to be behind him.

“You could have phrased it better.” She huffed, falling into step.

“Maybe.”

Her frown deepened. “Maybe?”

From the normal volume of voice to a whisper, he spoke. “What did you want me to say?”

She began whispering too, less because the place was in the dark and making noise could attract hidden enemies, and more because he was doing it. “I don’t know.”

Rick’s tone was full of incredulity. “Then how should I know?!”

“Something like… ‘I don’t want you to get hurt’ or ‘I don’t want to hurt you when I shoot’. That’s not—” She stopped talking when Rick suddenly turned around to stare at her with an unamused expression. “What?”

“I spent the whole night getting hurt so you wouldn’t. I don’t have to explain or justify my actions anymore.”

That was true, and the truth left her speechless. Her only reaction was her face blushing in embarrassment. Thankfully, in the dark, nobody could tell.

Since no answer was coming, Rick faced forward again and took his flashlight in his off hand and held the pump of his shotgun with it. Not the best arrangement, but it was either that or switching weapons.

They arrived in front of a windowed room; through it they could tell it was the cafeteria. Red leather bench seats, wide tables, and a few dead corpses. One side looked completely in disarray, while the other was in relatively good order.

Going left to go down the corridor, they turned right. At the end of the path was another door that needed an upgraded bracelet. Rick sighed and glanced at Claire.

“Check the cafeteria to see if there isn’t a way to the other side? The separation with the kitchen is open,” she suggested.

Rick slightly corrected the plan. “Check if any of the undead has the bracelet we need too. We can split for now because we only have one.”

“Good idea.”

Turning right and facing the cafeteria door, Claire swiped the wristband to open it. He immediately stepped in and aimed right so his flashlight would illuminate the part of the room he wasn’t about to see from his position earlier. He was right to do so, because three zombies suddenly woke from the ground. Walking forward, he stomped forcefully on the skull of one, squashing it to paste, shot the second in it too, obtaining the same result, and smacked the third in the head, knocking it down on its ass to avoid wasting ammo. Another kick to the head to make sure the last one stayed down was followed up by another stomp to kill it.

Turning around, Rick wondered what Claire was doing, as she didn’t fire a single shot. The answer was: being busy stabbing spines and eyes.

‘Huh. She really took that lesson to heart,’ he thought while replacing the used shell in his shotgun.

Claire gave him a proud and assured smile, which morphed into a cautious one when they both heard a loud, heavy thud coming from the back of the room. On reflex, they aimed their firearms in the direction and waited. The low, guttural growl echoing told them all about what had fallen down from the ceiling. In a burst of speed, Claire ran up the table and jumped onto the undead’s back, pinning it down and stabbing it dead.

“It looks like the room is clear.” Rick crouched down to pick up a grenade on the ground, near one of the dead bodies he helped make. “Got a grenade too.”

Claire was aiming her gun and flashlight up at the ceiling. “Nothing up there either, as far as I can tell.” Looking at Rick, she illuminated a spot on a table a few feet away from him. “There is a box of 9mm.”

“Got it.”

Rick swiped it up and tossed it to her. Claire immediately put it in her backpack. She would check how many bullets were in it later. He looked at the shelves, searching for food, but found none. None that was edible at least and not a ground zero for bio-hazard. The vending machines were his solace, however. One was full of drinks, from water to soda, another contained snacks.

Raising his shotgun, he broke the glass of the second one.

“What are you—This is not the time!” Claire hissed as Rick was breaking more of the glass and picking packets of cookies and sweets.

“It is. We’re at the heart of everything. The virus was worked on here and probably released too. Who knows what kind of shit and monsters we’re going to encounter? How long since you ate something and just kept going? I bet it was when I gave you those chocolate bars before we met Sherry.”

Claire caught a bag of peanuts Rick had tossed at her in silence. He was right, of course. She’s been stressed ever since they arrived in the station’s garage and never took a break. It had been hours ago. And while the journey in the cable car had taken some time, with an empty stomach she hadn’t recovered much. So she didn’t huff or mutter some rant and simply ate.

‘God… I needed that.’

“We’re pressed by time, Claire, I didn’t forget, but that doesn’t mean we should rush half-assed without thinking. Sherry is counting on us, and it’s better to waste ten minutes than waste our lives,” he said between a handful of gummy bears.

Claire exhaled through her nose in surrender. “I know. I just don’t like doing nothing like this.”

“You’re not doing nothing. You’re gearing yourself up to take down any obstacles on the way,” Rick corrected her again, while opening a bag of chips and dropping the whole content into his open mouth.

His words warmed her heart. They sounded so calculating, so logical and pragmatic, but it gave her focus. A new perspective, and it cheered her up a little. She had come to like when Rick talked like this. It grounded her and pushed her to fight harder.

“What are you doing?” Claire asked when Rick began to check the dead’s pockets.

He showed her a wallet he had just snatched. “We need to hydrate ourselves too, or we’re going to suffer cramps, and that will doom us too. Soda is good because it’s almost all sugar, but it doesn’t really hydrate.”

That made her chuckle. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

“Not everything. I didn’t think about restroom breaks.” Rick picked the water bottle the machine gave him. “Bet you didn’t either.” He chugged it all down.

“I didn’t, no. But I wouldn’t say no to one. I’ve been running around for hours.”

“I’m at my limit too.” He tossed the empty bottle at her. “If you need to go.”

Claire blinked in confusion, then her eyes suddenly widened. “You mean…”

Rick nodded. “Cut the top to make a funnel and flip it upside down. From your height and weight, you may need a second.”

‘What the fuck?!’ she screamed in her mind. “How do you know that?!”

“I studied.” He shrugged.

That took Claire for a spin. “You’re kidding me! There are studies about how much…”

Rick nodded as he walked closer. “Yeah. Mathematical formula and all. You’re 5’5” perhaps 5’6”, you weigh around 115lbs, so the average volume for one trip to the restroom for you is around 25 to 55mL. Since you’re dehydrated a lot and—”

In panic, Claire put her hands over his mouth. “Stop talking!”

Rick still tried, but it was muffled. “Hmmm.”

“No! I don’t want to know about how much I pee! Nobody wants to know! Okay?!”

She kept her hands on his mouth, waiting for an answer. Not the brightest of ideas, but Rick understood what she was thinking, so he grabbed her wrists to free himself.

“Okay. Although…”

She tried to raise her hands again. “No!”

“Medical condition.”

That stopped her on the spot. “…What?”

“It can reveal if you are sick or have a medical condition. So it’s important to know. Just saying.”

He let her go and went to have a look at the hole in the ceiling and the ladder against the wall. For her part, Claire simply took a deep breath. She had completely forgotten that one of the things he wished he could become was a doctor. Now it made more sense.

‘He wasn’t being a pervert. He was talking from a medical point of view. Claire, shame on you for thinking badly of him.’ Turning around, she saw him gone. “Hey! Wait for me!”

Quickly, she climbed the ladder. Rick was waiting for her at the top and extended his hands for her. Claire took it and let herself be pulled up.

The abnormally large and high vent led to the kitchen. Without surprise, Rick checked for sharp tools. Not just knives, but everything pointy. Claire even let herself be seduced by a huge meat cleaver. Once they were done picking their cold weapons, Rick waved a sharpening rod and used it on every single one of his seven knives and two cleavers. He didn't spend a lot of time on it, but enough to have good results.

Claire was good and chose to leave through the door. Her heart stopped when she was immediately met face to face with the zombie of a military guy who caught her by the shoulders. She screamed and tried to free herself, but its strength was too great. Just when the undead was leaning forward to bite her, its head snapped back. Its body went limp, and it fell forward, pushing her down.

“Rick! Help!” She heard his footsteps and saw his feet stop next to her head.

“I already did.”

Rick crouched and pushed the zombie off of her. Only then was Claire able to see that a meat cleaver was deeply stuck in its forehead. Heart still beating in fright, she let herself be lifted to her feet while her eyes were fixed on the undead’s fatal wound.

“Did… Did you just throw…”

Rick put a foot on the corpse to pin it down and with one tug of the hand retrieved his weapon. “Yes.”

‘Fuck, that was hot,’ was her first thought, then she shook her head to focus on the matter at hand. ‘He could have hit me!’

“And another tactical vest.” Rick was removing the harness from the body. “Plenty of pockets and… Yes, a few submachine gun magazines. We need to see if it fits the MQ.”

Claire was stumped. She nearly died from a zombie, nearly got a cleaver splitting her head open, and her partner was… acting like a kid in a toy store. This was perhaps the most bizarre moment of the whole night that made her think that maybe… Maybe she was in a coma and imagined everything. Maybe she had a motorcycle accident on her way to Raccoon City.

‘It was raining heavily, the road wasn’t great… Maybe my bike drifted. I lost control and bam.’

“You’re taking them or not?”

Claire blinked and was back to the present. Rick was handing her the pair of magazines he had found. Silently, she tucked them inside the bag and stepped out of the kitchen.

On the left was the door necessitating a level 2 wristband, and on the right was…

“Jackpot.” She whispered absent-mindedly. Catching herself, she turned to Rick with a frown on her face.

“Jackpot, yes. What about it?”

Letting out a huff, she walked towards the nap room that only needed a visitor level of access to open. ‘The jerk is rubbing off on me. I’m saying ‘Jackpot’ now.’

The room was more long than spacious. On the right were bunk beds inside the very wall. Most had their shutters down, and some didn’t. One of them had an arm hanging freely. An arm with a level 2 wristband.

‘Jack— Bingo!’ She corrected her thought as she removed the chip to put it into her own bracelet.

“There is a bathroom.”

On the spot, Claire turned around and found Rick standing in front of a door on the opposite wall. She was about to say something when Rick removed his carrier belt, his actual belt with the pouches on it, then his black beater.

Her eyes widened in shock. ‘He’s not going to do what… and now he’s removing his boots!’ That was too much for her. “ARE YOU MAD?! We don’t have the time for a shower!”

“We’ll make the time.” He removed the holsters on his legs. Firearms and knives. “We’ve been in contact with all kinds of pathogens, practically swam in the sewers, which was even worse. I don’t want to deal with a possible security system in the labs because we’re covered in grime.”

At this point, he was down to his boxer underwear. He went to an open locker, picked up a clean and dry towel hanging, and removed his last article of clothing, tossing it to the pile at the side of the door.

Claire didn’t know where to look, but her subconscious mind sure did.

‘HOLY SHIT!’

When he turned around and walked through the door, her eyes never looked anywhere else. Even when he was out of sight.

“You’re free to wait for your turn or join to not waste time!”

Frozen in place, Claire’s mind had checked out.