Project: Resurrection

Brother Part 34

The saferoom was empty. Jake stared into it, long and hard, his shoulders rigid with shock as he struggled to understand the simple fact that Sherry and Anja were not there.

His whole mindset had depended on the fact that they would be here when they got back, fully loaded and ready to go.

Jill's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Jake, there's a note on the bed, I think--"

The words had barely left her mouth and he was there, not entirely sure how he'd gotten there. His hands trembling as he snatched up the paper.

Jake, I wanted to wait for you, I'm sorry. Leon came and took us out. We have Anna with us... I wanted to wait, please come back to me. ~ Sherry

Relief surged through him. "That son of a bitch," he muttered holding the note out to Jill to read. She glanced over it, her eyes widening.

"Leon's not dead," she whispered flicking her gaze to Chris.

"What?" Chris moved forward to look at the note. He visibly relaxed. "I thought... When he closed us in, I thought..."

"What?" Jake snapped. "No one fucking stays dead around here." 

Jill snickered, covering it with a cough. Even Chris's lips turned up at the corners. It was ridiculous and yet true.

"He told us to go," Jill put a hand on Chris's shoulder. "He's been doing this for years, and so have you. It's not like you left him behind."

"Told you, I won't believe he's dead unless I see a body, "Jake relaxed a notch. "He's got more lives than a cat." He was relieved, Leon was probably the only person outside of himself who could have convinced Sherry to leave. And she was safer with him than anyone else here.

It also meant he didn't have to say anything to her about Claire just yet. Sherry was going to be devastated. It was the last news he wanted to share with anyone.

"Was this where they were keeping her?" Jill asked as she surveyed the room, taking everything in from the King sized bed to the small cradle. The heavy door locked on both sides.

"Both of them... and me." Jake sighed, fingering what was left of his shredded shirt, he pulled the remains that were tucked into the top of his pants, tossing them to the floor. There were a few other T-shirts in the drawers. He hated taking anything that Wesker had provided but the idea of running around shirtless did not really appeal to him either.

A roar rang out behind them, Chris and Jill froze while Jake yanked the shirt down over his head, hastily replacing his earpiece and rearranging his glock.

"What do you say that see what else is in here?" He glanced over at them.

Jill smiled. "I'm game if you are."

"Care to wager?"

"You want to bet on how many you kill?" Chris looked at him, his jaw hitting the floor.

"It's how Leon and I get through it," Jake moved through the door. Especially when there are tons. "Loser buys the winner a drink."

"I'll take that bet," Jill stepped up. "I like whiskey by the way."

Jake smirked but moved to the door. The black shirt he had on fit his mood perfectly. He really didn't give a shit about how many they killed but anything to mask what they were all really feeling right now.

"I'll take an entire bottle of scotch," Chris mumbled behind them.

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