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Something wasn’t right.
To be fair, things hadn’t been right since Mia had gone missing. They’d both been through their own versions of hell in the three years since that day, and even though she was back and they were safe, the three years after that had been chaotic. Recovering after Dulvey, the pregnancy, the move to another continent...he understood why Mia had been so tense lately. It hurt, sure, he hated fighting with her, but he got it.
How she was acting today, though, was something else entirely.
He and Mia had been married for almost ten years. Even with the three year gap, Ethan liked to think he knew what she was like. All his experience was telling him that she was acting off. It had started the night before when she slept on the couch. If she’d done that the night before last, he would’ve understood; they’d just had another fight, she might’ve needed to cool off. No harm, no foul. But they’d shared a bed even after the fight, and as far as he could remember, he’d done nothing yesterday to make her chance her mind about that. And all day today, she’d seemed off. In a good mood, but…not? Not like how he remembered her good moods. There was something forced about it, like she was happy, but had to pretend to act happy whenever he got involved.
You’re just being paranoid.
She’d never accused him of being paranoid. Him being paranoid hadn’t even been on the table. Worrying about different things, maybe (though they were always too wound up by the end of an argument for her to clarify what), but not that he was worrying too much. And her tone…what had been up with that?
Then go cautiously put your daughter to bed.
He didn’t think she’d ever talked to him like that before. That hadn’t been a teasing tone. He remembered what teasing sounded like. This was…
Ethan stood by Rose’s crib, still holding his daughter. He should put her down, go downstairs, try to figure out what was happening, but he was suddenly scared to let her go. Scared to have her out of his sight.
Am I being paranoid?
“What do you think, Rosie?” Ethan whispered. “Is your mom okay?”
Rose’s eyes half-opened for a second, and she made a sleepy grumbling noise in response. It was enough to make Ethan smile, but not for long. The worry came flooding back, his stomach twisting itself into knots as he ran over Mia’s behavior. Something in his gut said this wasn’t right, and as much as he wanted to believe that Mia was right, that he was just being paranoid…
Rose yawned. Ethan took that as his cue to finally put her down, though he wasn’t happy about it. “I’ll be right downstairs,” he said, just as much to soothe himself as her. “Daddy won’t let those weird fairy tale monsters get you.”
Despite his distaste for the book, he guessed it was a more accurate fairy tale than most. The real ones, not the watered down ones most people knew, were messed up. Spoiled milk and knotted hair and stolen babies. It was that last thought that made him linger a bit longer, even after he’d turned on the baby monitor. Changelings. That’s what they were called.
…fuck it.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. There were only a few text threads there, and finding one number in particular—listed in his phone as just C—wasn’t difficult. Bullshit stupid question, he tapped out, but did the mutamycete produce any shapeshifters?
And it took all of one tenth of a second after pressing send for Ethan to feel like an absolute fucking idiot. What kind of dumb, paranoid question was that? Best case scenario, Chris would think he was insane, worst case scenario he’d take it seriously and crash their dinner to get a DNA sample from everyone. Great job, Ethan. Way to ruin the whole evening. He sighed and starting writing out a new text. Mia’s gonna be so pissed…
Never mind. I’ve been fidgety tonight. We’ve just hit a rough patch. That was what he meant to write. He barely got past never mind before Chris replied: Where are you?
Great. Definitely crashing dinner. I’ll set an extra plate for him, Ethan thought bitterly as he typed out his response.
At home. Don’t worry about it, I’m being irrational.
Chris’s response came just as quickly as the last: Where’s Mia?
It could have been nothing. It probably was. But Chris never replied to texts this fast. Chris was barely a texting kind of guy. And why was he immediately asking about Mia and not for some clarification?
Downstairs, Ethan replied. His hands were shaking as he typed. He tried to remember where the guns were. Nowhere near Rose’s bed, that was for sure. Ethan was well-prepared, but he wasn’t crazy. What’s going on?
He looked away from the phone long enough to take stock of the room. What he might be able to use as a weapon, if he had to. He was so wrapped up in the panic that he almost missed…
“What’s taking you so long?”
Ethan damn near jumped out of his skin at the sound of Mia’s voice. She was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, smelling faintly of whatever she’d been cooking. “Oh…hey, sorry, I got a text from work…” Ethan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it long enough to confirm the text was from Chris, but not long enough to really read it. “…I keep telling them I can’t help them after office hours, but you know how it is.”
Mia smiled, a smile that had never looked more strained or…threatening. Not even when she’d been possessed by Eveline. “Well, tell them you’re about to have dinner,” she said. “Come on.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming…” This time, his phone started ringing. Damn it, Chris, what are you doing? “Let me take this. I’ll tell them to fuck off.” Ethan answered, trying to keep a safe distance between him and Mia to avoid her overhearing anything. “Hey, Luke.”
“Ethan, are you…” Chris stopped suddenly. “Is she in the room with you?”
“Yeah, I get that, but now’s not a good time,” Ethan said. The moment was so surreal, he almost wanted to laugh. This was the kind of shit people did in crime dramas. Disguising your 911 call as a pizza order. This wasn’t supposed to be his life. “I’m walking to the dinner table…whatever Mia made smells delicious, she’s going to be pissed if I let it get cold.”
“I definitely am,” Mia called back over her shoulder.
“Hear that?” Ethan said. How was his voice so steady when he felt like he was going to throw up? “I don’t want to be in the doghouse.”
Chris cursed quietly. “Don’t eat anything,” he said. Nothing terrifying about that sentence! “Don’t eat or drink anything, just…keep her talking. We’re less than five minutes out.”
Five minutes out? Was he on his way already? Why? “That’s five minutes too long,” Ethan said. He hoped his voice crack sounded like frustration and not absolute terror. “Can’t someone else do it?”
“We’re going as fast as we can. Keep her away from Rose.”
He should’ve been terrified by that statement. But hearing that suddenly threw everything into sharp clarity: the same clarity that hit him when Zoe told him about the serum. This is what you have to do. This is what protects your family.
Keep her talking. Keep her away from Rose. Five minutes. I can do that.
“Look, fine, but this is the last time, man. I mean it,” Ethan said. They were downstairs by then. Mia was moving to the kitchen; he could keep her in his line of sight while he went for his work computer. “Hey, babe, sorry, they really need me to do this…it shouldn’t take long. Can I…?”
“Do what you want,” Mia sighed. “Do they care if you drink on the job? It’s local wine.”
“I don’t think they can stop me. I’m not in the office.” Ethan set the computer up at the dining room table. “Yeah, I’m having a drink without you. Did you send the file?” His computer was, fortunately, slow to boot, which meant he could pretend to check his email on his phone. Really, he went right back to the text thread.
Is that Mia yes or no
The nausea returned as he typed out the sentence, but he pushed it aside as he waited for the text to send and put the phone back up to his ear. “I think you forgot the attachment. I don’t see anything/”
“It’s not Mia,” said Chris.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ethan busied himself by pretending to fiddle with his computer. He tried not to stare—tried not to think too hard about the fact that Mia, or whoever was in his house, was closer to the stairs than he was. Closer to Rose. “Okay, okay, just re-send it,” Ethan said. “This is why you shouldn’t do work late, you know.”
Stay calm. Just stay calm. Rose needs you. They have to be close by now. Just stay calm…
“Everything okay?”
“Mia” had come back with the food. Ethan forced himself to breathe carefully. “Yeah, just…” He set down his phone and pretended to check his email. Thank God, there were a few unopened ones he could sort through to make it look convincing. “Already kind of sick of his job, you know?” At least sounding stressed wouldn’t be too suspicious. Before he could keep bullshitting, he heard faint barking, and the baby monitor crackle to life. Rose’s tiny wails came through, nearly making his heart stop.
“Ugh, those stupid dogs again,” Mia muttered, annoyed. “I’ll go get her…”
Shit, shit, no.
“No, I’ve got it,” Ethan said suddenly, nearly dislodging a glass of wine from the table as he stood. Too much, too suspicious. Mia’s eyes narrowed. “I mean…you’ve still got to finish dinner, right? I don’t want to…”
“It’s fine,” Mia said coldly. Harshly. Whatever patience she’d been faking with him today had hit a breaking point. “Don’t you have work?”
Ethan tried to slow his breathing. Tried to stay calm. Clenched his hand so tightly he felt the scar on his left arm stretch and ache. “Rose comes first,” he said. “They know that.”
“…yes. She certainly does.”
The words almost sounded like a threat. Ethan started calculating if he could outrun Mia to the steps. She had a slight distance advantage, but maybe, maybe if the adrenaline was enough, if he could get around her in the living room, why the fuck didn’t I grab a weapon before…?
The first shot popped cleanly through Mia’s shoulder.
The stunned silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. Mia looked so shocked, so genuinely taken aback, that for a moment, Ethan wondered if he’d made a mistake. If Chris had made a mistake. He knew what his gut was telling him and he’d heard Chris’s warning clearly, but what if they were wrong, what if this was her, what if, what if, what if…
“Mia…?”
The room went dark. The window shattered before she could reply.
Ethan ducked to cover instinctively. It felt like the house was being torn apart. Even behind the chaos of gunshots, breaking glass, splintering stone and wood, he could hear Mia crying out in pain. For the first time all day, it sounded like her, and all he could do was cover his ears and hope. That he’d been right. That it wasn’t really Mia. Or, even better, that this was all a dream. That he’d fallen asleep while listening to Mia read Rose a bedtime story and any second now he’d wake up. Dinner would be ready and they’d eat together and maybe he’d finally talk to Mia about the fights they’d been having, really talk to her, and everything would be fine…
The first thing he heard as the gunshots faded to a ringing in his ears was Rose screaming.
Rose.
Ethan was on his feet and running towards the stairs before he was even sure it was safe. He was so focused on getting to the stairs that he almost collided with someone coming in through the front door. Black outfit, black mask, tactical gear, too short to be Chris. They tried to hold him back, but he was already breaking free, already running up the stairs, blind to everything except his daughter’s wailing. He half-expected to find the bedroom in tatters, but everything was intact. Rose was fine—scared, crying, but unhurt.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Ethan picked her up, holding her close. “I have you. I have you. Everything’s going to be okay…”
Rose’s sobbing quieted, but she wasn’t calm. She kept fussing, squirming in his arms. Could she hear the tears in his voice? Tell how terrified he was? Nothing was fine. Their house had been shot to hell and either his wife was dead on the floor in their dining room or she was gone, replaced by some doppelganger who’d wanted to take his daughter…
“Ethan…Ethan…!”
Ethan jumped back from the hand on his shoulder. It was Chris. Just Chris. Ethan should’ve been relieved, but all he felt was a swirling hurricane of fear, confusion, nausea, even anger. “What the fuck is going on?!” Ethan asked, his voice cracking.
“There’s no time to explain…”
“Bullshit, Chris! Where’s Mia? Who was that?!”
“I don’t know where Mia is, but I can tell you that’s not her down there. Listen.” Chris put his hands on Ethan’s shoulders again. “It’s not safe here. They’re going to take you to a safe house, and someone there will explain everything. But until then, you have to trust me.”
Trust me. Chris had never given him a reason not to, but Ethan wasn’t sure he was in a trusting mood right now. Not with Mia possibly missing and Rose definitely in danger. Still, what choice did he have? He could demand answers until he was blue in the face, but he knew Chris wouldn’t give them right now. More likely, he’d throw Ethan over his shoulder and drag him out if he had to. “Okay,” Ethan said shakily. “Okay. Fine.”
He was starting to be grateful that the concept of a grab bag had been drilled into him so thoroughly, because it was all he had time for. His bag, Rose’s, Mia’s (despite himself), Rose’s stuffed monkey, a coat, and his shoes. He was trying to get them on without putting Rose down when one of the agents reached for her. “She has to go in a separate car,” said the man.
Ethan froze. “Fuck no…”
“Ethan,” Chris interjected. “You’re both in danger and it’s not a good idea to have all your eggs in one basket. She’ll be safer in another car.”
“Bullshit.”
“You can hand her over or I can take her. Your call.”
It was stupid, but his first instinct was to lash out. Get violent. Refuse to leave until they could take the same car. It was a fight he probably couldn’t win, and a pointless one at that, but damn, Ethan didn’t want to be separated from her. It didn’t feel right.
But the less he argued, the faster he’d get out of there, and the faster he’d get answers. He knew that, but he hated it.
“Just…let me buckle her in. She’s scared, she might start crying if…please.”
They let him have that, at least.
There was already a car seat in one of the vans. It was almost funny seeing it there, little pink headrest and everything, in the back of a damn government van with tinted windows. “You’re going to go for a ride, okay?” Ethan said as he strapped Rose in. “It won’t be far and I’ll see you really soon.” He put her bag on the floor, tucked the monkey into the seat next to her. “Be good for Chris’s friends, okay?”
Rose stared at him, her eyes wide, still full of tears, tired and afraid. Leaving her like that made him feel sick, but there was already an agent hovering at his back, and Ethan had a feeling he’d be dragged out if he didn’t come out of his own volition. He couldn’t stop himself from lingering a second longer, taking Rose’s tiny hand and kissing it. “I love you, honey,” he said. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”
She didn’t cry as he backed out of the car. That almost made it worse.
The next few minutes were a blur. He knew he was lead to a different van, strapped in next to the go bags. They drove off at just above the speed limit. Ethan wasn’t sure how far they’d gone before he finally zoned back in. His hands were shaking and his stomach was starting to growl. Didn’t even get anything to eat, he thought. As if that were somehow important right now.
“Hey.” The BSAA agent in the van’s passenger seat turned around and held something out. It looked like candy—some kind of regional thing he’d seen at the grocery store. “Sorry, it’s all I’ve got.”
“…thanks.” It was better than nothing. Maybe the sugar hit would help him think. Ethan took the bar and tore it open. The bar was chocolate on the outside with some kind of soft center. It almost tasted like…caramel, maybe with some booze mixed in. I could use a drink right now. “Do you know what’s going on?”
“Not much. We’re taking you to the drop off point. We’ll be swapping drivers there and then someone else will take you the rest of the way.”
Ethan frowned. “That seems like a bit much.”
“That’s Redfield for you.” The agent sounded used to it. “He’s just cautious. He’s got every reason to be with the shit he’s been through.”
Ethan believed it. He only knew a fraction of Chris’s career, but it sounded like a lot to handle. He ate the chocolate bar slowly, trying to focus on the flavor and not the awful sense of terror still clawing at his gut. I hope Rose is okay. I shouldn’t have left her. This was a bad idea. Where’s Mia? Is she…?
He shook the thought away. No. No, she was fine. She had to be. They’d figure this out. He’d find her again. He had to.
He couldn’t lose her again.
The car started to slow. Ethan wouldn’t have thought twice about it if he hadn’t overheard the guy in the passenger seat mutter, “Why the fuck are we stopping…?”
Shit.
Something rammed into the car, making them flip them over. The car rolled, once, twice. Something hit Ethan in the head, hard enough to make him see stars. He was already fading when the car stopped on its side, but he tried to fight it. No. No, get up. Get up, Ethan, get up… Ethan struggled against his seat belt, but it felt like he’d been crushed by a boulder. His body only sluggishly obeyed him, and it definitely wasn’t enough to free him. Get up, get up, get up…
Outside, it was chaos. He heard guns firing. Some strange, loud roaring. One of the BSAA agents, the passenger, he was pretty sure, managed to get out of the van, but a crunch and a scream said he hadn’t gotten far. Ethan froze at the sound, only resuming his struggling when he heard two sounds.
A quiet, thin wail, and the soothing notes of a lullaby. He didn’t know the words, but he recognized the tune.
The fake Mia had been humming it to Rose earlier that day.
No, no, no…!
It felt like an eternity, but Ethan finally managed to get free, falling onto the side of the van. He cried out in pain, but forced himself forward. The driver was dead; Ethan had to crawl past him to get to the open passenger’s door. He managed to pull himself up and out, his hands quickly becoming coated in a layer of blood. The other van was nearby, upright, but with the driver’s side window smashed in. All the doors were open. There were bodies, files scattered on the road. Blood in the snow.
No sign of anyone alive.
No sign of Rose.
Something whimpered. It wasn’t until the whimper turned into a word—Rose—that Ethan realized it was him. He barely made it two steps before collapsing, his body shaking, fear and pain and guilt stabbing up his spine. He’d promised her, he’d promised…
You promised her. So get the fuck up.
The clarity was back. Even the pain of the accident wasn’t enough to dull it. The road went straight ahead; she couldn’t have gone far. Ethan forced himself back to his feet. Backtracked to the car to grab his bag. Started down the road, only detouring when he heard something ringing next to one of the bodies. A phone. By the time he reached it, the call had disconnected, and the battery died before he could call back. Ethan cursed quietly and dropped it in the snow.
It was fine. Knowing Chris, he’d probably start looking the second they didn’t make the driver swap. Backup would be coming, but Ethan had no intention of waiting around for it. He had to find Rose. He’d do it himself if he had to.
There was no way he was letting that bitch take his daughter. No way in hell.