and there was a mighty clap of brilliance andsound that she'd suffered once already since waking up,a displacement of air that slapped at her eardrums, andCarlos was trying to shield her, holding her head down,saying something in rapid Spanish as time sped up tonormal and something started to burn.
God, again? The whole city's going to blow up atthis rate… The thought was vague, disoriented, hermind muddled until she remembered to breathe. A deepinhalation and Jill pushed Carlos's arm away and stood,needing to see.The kitchen was blasted, blackened, utensils andcookware everywhere. She saw several canisters lean-ing against the back wall, one of them the obvioussource of the explosion, its smoking metal sides peeledback like jagged petals. Rancid smoke curled up fromthe smoldering body on the floor, the Nemesis laid outlike a fallen giant, its black clothes singed and burnt. Itdidn't move."No offense, but are you batshit?" Carlos asked, star-ing at her as though the question was rhetorical. "Youcould've barbecued us both!"
Jill watched the Nemesis, ignoring him, the.357 aimed at its still legs; its head and upper body were blocked by a low shelf. The blast had been powerful, but after all she'd been through, she knew better than to assume anything.
Shoot, shoot it while it's down, you may not have an-other chance…
The Nemesis twitched, a slight jerk of the fingers on the hand she could see, and Jill's nerve fled. She wanted out, she wanted to be far away before it sat up, before it shook off the effects of the explosion, as it surely would. "We have to get out of here, now," she said, turning to Carlos. Young, good-looking, obviously unnerved by the blast, he hesitated, then nodded, holding his assault rifle tightly to his chest. It looked like an M16, military, and he was dressed for combat – a very good sign. Hope there's more where you came from, Jill thought, heading for the door at a brisk pace, Carlos right behind her. She had a lot of questions for him and realized that he probably had a few for her, too… but they could talk somewhere else. Anywhere else. As soon as they were outside, Jill couldn't stop her-self; she broke into a run, the young soldier pacing her, hurrying through the cool dark of the dead city as she wondered if there was anyplace left where they could be safe. The girl, Jill, ran a full block before slowing down.
She seemed to know where they were going, and it was obvious that she'd had some kind of combat training; cop, maybe, though she sure as hell wasn't in uniform. Carlos was desperately curious but saved his breath, concentrating instead on keeping up with her. From the restaurant they ran downhill, past the the-ater Trent had mentioned, taking a right at a decorative fountain at the end of the block; another half block and Jill signaled at a door on the left for a standard sweep. Carlos nodded, standing to one side of the door, rifle up. Jill pulled the handle and Carlos stepped in, ready to fire at anything that moved, Jill covering him. They were in some kind of a warehouse, at the end of a walkway that T-ed some fifteen meters ahead. It seemed to be clear. "It should be all right," Jill said quietly. "I came through this way a few minutes ago." "Better safe than sorry, though, right?" Carlos said, keeping the rifle up but feeling some of the tension leave his body. She was definitely a pro. They edged into the warehouse, carefully checking it out before saying another word. It was cold and not very well lit, but it didn't smell as bad as most of the rest of the city and by standing at the T junction in the middle of the warehouse, they'd be able to see anything coming well before it got to them. In all, it felt like the safest place he'd been since the helicopter.
"I'd like to ask you something, if you don't mind,"
Jill said, finally turning her full attention to him. Carlos opened his mouth and the words just spilled out. "You want to ask me out, right? It's the accent, chicks love the accent. You hear it and you just can't help yourselves."
Jill stared at him, eyes wide, and for a moment hethought he'd made a mistake, that she wouldn't realizehe was kidding. It was a stupid call, joking around inthese circumstances. Just as he was about to apologize,one corner of her mouth lifted slightly."I thought you said you weren't a zombie," she said."But if that's the best you can do, maybe we ought toreevaluate your situation."
Carlos grinned, delighted with her comeback – andsuddenly thought of Randy, of him playing around justbefore they'd landed in Raccoon. His smile faded, andhe saw the bright glitter of humor leave her face, too, asif she'd also remembered where they were and whathad happened.When she spoke again, her tone was much cooler. "Iwas going to ask if you were the same Carlos who sentout a message about an hour ago, hour and a halfmaybe."
"You heard that?" Carlos asked, surprised. "When no one answered, I didn't think…" Be careful who you trust. Trent's words flashed through his mind, reminding him that he had no idea who Jill Valentine was. He trailed off, shrugging indif-ferently.
"I only caught part of it, and I couldn't transmit from where I was," Jill said. "You said something about a platoon, didn't you? Are there other, ah, sol-diers here?" Stick to the basics, and nothing about Trent. "There were, but I think they're all dead now. This whole oper-ation's been a disaster from word go." "What happened?" she asked, studying him intently. "And who are you with, anyway, National Guard? Are they sending backup?"
Carlos watched her in turn, wondering how careful he needed to be. "No reinforcements, I don't think. I mean, I'm sure they'll send someone in eventually, but I'm just a grunt, I don't really know anything – we set down, the zombies attacked. Maybe some of the other guys got away, but so far's I know, you're looking at the last surviving member of the U.B.C.S. That's Um-brella Bio-Hazard Countermea…"
She cut him off, the expression on her face close to disgust. "You're with Umbrella?" Carlos nodded. "Yeah. They sent us in to rescue the civilians." He wanted to say more, to tell her what he suspected – anything to change the look on her face, like she'd just found out he was a rasist or something, but Trent's advice kept repeating, reminding him to be wary. Jill's lips curled. "How 'bout you can the shit? Um-brella's responsible for what happened here, as if you didn't know – where do you get off lying? What are you really doing here? Tell the truth, Carlos, if that's your name."
She was definitely pissed, and Carlos felt a mo-ment's uncertainty, wondering if she was an ally, some-one who knew the truth about Umbrella, but it could also be a trap.
Maybe she works for them and is trying to feel me out, find out where my loyalties are…
Carlos allowed a touch of anger to creep into his own voice. "I'm just a grunt, like I said. I'm – all of us are guns-for-hire. No politics, dig? They don't tell us shit. And at the moment, I'm not interested in what Umbrella is or isn't responsible for. If I see someone who needs help, I'm gonna do my job, but otherwise, I just want to get out."