Something Wicked

Horror movies should be made in places like this, Chris thought to himself as drove through the darkened streets of Westbrook. It was a generic, queasily quaint little town that set his nerves on end.



Well, the nerves thing might have more to do with the fact that Umbrella owned the town. 80% of the people were employed by the pharmaceutical company. Those who weren’t employed were related to someone who was.



A whole freaking town of people who were loyal to the company. It gave him a headache just thinking about what he was trying to do.



Trent said there was a secret Umbrella testing facility in the town. It needed to be taken out. For some reason Chris was the man to do it.



Without back up.



That hadn’t sat well with anyone, lest of all him. Claire had argued. Okay, she had yelled at Trent while the man just stood there, smiling like a god damned Cheshire cat. Rebecca, David, Jill, Barry, hell even Carlos had all taken a turn too.



Yet here he was, still by himself.



“You’ll find all the help you need when you get there,” Trent had assured him. Chris had packed as many guns as he could carry. Things never went the way they were planned when Umbrella was involved.



I should have brought more explosives. He just knew he was going to need to blow something up. He pulled in to a random parking spot along the main strip. There seemed to be some kind of diner where everyone was gathering.



Go where the people are. Then hope you don’t get shot. Or attacked by zombies, Chris thought. He hand unconsciously slid to his concealed gun. He smoothed his hand down the fabric covering, hoping that he looked like he was just trying to smooth out wrinkles. He ran his hand over a few other random places to help with that illusion.



The bell above the door jingled as he walked in. Chris almost stopped walking as every eye in the place turned on him.



Small town, he reminded himself. Not near any major lanes of travel. They probably don’t see many strangers. That didn’t put him at ease when only half the eyes swung back to their evening meal.



Confidence is the key to not getting eaten alive. He just had to look like he knew where he was and exactly what he was doing there. That thought firmly in mind, he strode to the counter.



“What can I get for you, honey?” He took a seat, giving the waitress his most charming smile. Waitresses seemed to be a universal constant. They all looked overworked. They all called him honey. They all blushed when he smiled.



“Coffee, please.” He should eat something, but just couldn’t bring himself to. Yeah, he was going to need his strength, but it was just impossible. His stomach wouldn’t settle.



“Sure thing.” Conversation was resuming slowly. Just soft murmurs, nothing he could make out clearly. He had a sinking suspicion that it was now mostly about him.



“Here you go. Anything else.” He took a glance at a menu near him. Most of it was way too greasy. The mere thought of eating any of it made him queasy.



“Hmm.”



“How ‘bout I just bring you some chocolate pie?”



“Perfect.” He could never resisted chocolate pie.



“Be just a moment.” He nodded, trying not look like he noticed that there were people still staring at him. Especially the big bear of a man in the corner, who just happened to be wearing a nice tan uniform. With a little shiny star pinned to his chest.



Sheriff, it figures. Just the guy I don’t want to run in to. Chris kept his eyes glued to the paper placemat in front of him.



Just act cool, he told himself. He smile again as the waitress put down his pie. He focused his eyes on that, while trying to eavesdrop on the conversations around him.



“…been hearing. Damn coyotes.”



“Could just be some wild dog…”



“Found a dead deer. Tore all to pieces just like the last.” Well, that was a bad sign already. There had been no missing people reported, so maybe just some Cerberus’ had escaped. He could deal with a few undead dogs.



“…could be worse.” He bit back a sigh. Right, now it was definitely going to be worse. And he wasn’t even the one who had uttered that stupid phrase.



“You’re not from around here,” a voice boomed in his ear, interrupting his thoughts.



“No, sir,” he answered, smiling. Hey, if it could charm the waitress than maybe it could soften up the Sheriff.



“Where you from son?” Or maybe not. The man sat down beside him, frowning sternly. His name tag read “Danvers.” The waitress set down a cup of coffee in front of him before scrambling away.



“San Francisco.”



“Long way from home.” Home doesn’t exist anymore.



“I’m on a bit of a road trip.” Cue the long silence. If the Sheriff was going for menacing, it was working.



“Getting mighty late to still be on the road.” Was eight o’clock really so late? Chris didn’t think so.



“I got a late start today.” He hadn’t. He had been on the road since way before sse, se, but David had suggested that staying at a motel in any of the near by towns might be a bad idea. Who knew what kind of intelligence Umbrella had set up as security?



“I didn’t catch your name…”



“Oh, jeez, how rude of me. I’m Chris…”



“Sheriff!” Well isn’t that a relief. It wasn’t that Chris was about to announce to the main the he was Chris Redfield. No, his license proclaimed him as Chris Greene.



I’ll just leave it at Chris. Hopefully, the man would be gone before he could get the rest. Whatever had brought theuty uty rushing in sounded urgent. At least the kid’s worried face made it seem that way.



“Sheriff, we just got a report of some kind of dog attack down on Longfellow Rd.”



“By the lake?”



“No sir. It’s down by that martial arts camp.” Chris tried to sit there and look clueless, he really did. Clueless, and a tad concerned, but not overly alarmed or interested. The Sheriff was looking at him, studying him carefully.



I don’t think he’s buying it. Not with the way Danver’s eyes went straight to his concealed gun.



“Son, I think you should come with me.” Funny, that didn’t sound like a request.



Chris stood up, motioning for the man to lead the way. He slapped down some money before he left. Too much, even when you added in the tip. Got the feeling that I don’t have time to wait around for change.



Walking out of the place, a man in the corner caught his eye. All he could see was the stranger’s back. Blonde hair, and a black shirt over broad shoulders.



Wesker, was the first thing person who came to mind. That thought got pushed firmly in to a box marked “DO NOT GO THERE!!!” He really didn’t need to deal with the former Captain of the S.T.A.R.S.



He had a feeling there were enough other monsters in Westbrook.





Author’s Notes:



Next chapter…Wesker!