Something Wicked
11
It took a good ten minutes to hike through the woods. Chris spent the whole time straining his eyes and ears to catch any hint of Umbrella’s monsters.
Problem is, there are too damn many to look out for.
And not all of them made enough noise to warn a person.
Danvers stayed close, gun out and ready just like Chris. He had assured the ex S.T.A.R. that he had been hunting in these woods all his life. He’d know if a sound was out of the ordinary.
“It’ll be just over that hill,” Danvers warned.
“Alright.” He had almost made it to the crest when he caught something out of the corner of his eyes. He spun, gun at the ready. The black lump on the ground didn’t move.
“That’s not a log,” Danvers said. Chris really had a bad feeling about this, but slowly moved forward. The shape still didn’t move. Not even the slightest to indicated it was breathing.
“What the hell…”
“A hunter.” A very dead one at that. One that was apparently missing its head. Chris swallowed quickly. It’s head was laying just a few feet away.
“That thing’s…”
“Something ripped its head off.” Or someone. No, he definitely wanted to think it was something.
“Shit.” Danvers when on, getting more creative with his curses as he went. Chris gave him a minute. Something like this, people needed just a little time to adjust.
“You told me, but I didn’t really think…. How could they…”
“We need to keep going.” Find out if there was a failsafe system. Some kind of way to self destruct. They didn’t have any more time to wait.
“If one’s loose than the rest probably are too.” Chris stopped at the top of the hill and looked down.