Chapter Text
An old, decrepit hallway greeted her as she stepped through the veils— dingy and disgusting, no light to speak of save that which streamed in from behind her. That light evaporated just two steps past safety, leaving River alone in the middle of the strange, unfamiliar building she now stood in. Water dripped down the walls; somewhere in the distance, someone grumbled in a foreign language, voice echoing faintly off the walls.
She'd turned up in worse places.
River took all of five seconds to check her gear— her rifle, modified with a long-range scope, slung across her back. Standard pistol holstered at one hip. Combat knife strapped to a harness that helped keep her cargo pants up, laden as they were with the better part of an ambulance's medical supplies. All had passed through the veils safely.
Nothing to do now but to go explore, and figure out precisely why this world had tugged at her sister's attention, after so long without.
A cold wind blew through her as she took a cautious step forward and peered down the nearest T-junction. To the left, the sound of rushing water. To her right, two voices echoed from the dark, neither familiar. Metal clanked, maybe some kind of chain. She tugged her jacket's hood down to further shield her eyes, the bandana around her neck up to cover her mouth and nose. Her combat boots made no noise on the concrete floor as she crept closer to the voices.
As she approached the doorway, a man with an ax staggered from the hallway opposite. River froze, but he paid no mind to her, single-minded on passing through the ragged cloth covering ahead. Then— an incomprehensible yell, and further shouts of warning. She picked up the pace, drew her pistol and pressed her back to the wall just left of the doorway. More sounds of a struggle from inside; she peered around the edge, careful not to get too close to the rays of yellow light streaming out.
Within the dingy room, two men, chained to each other by wrist manacles and a long chain, fought the third who'd passed her. One of the two snapped the chain into the ax-wielder’s face, then almost danced around him to wrap it around his neck. He took wild swipes at them, but while they kept him chained and at a distance, he had no hope of reaching either of them.
She judged the risk of shooting one of the defenders too high to interfere, especially while they moved so fast. Intervention discarded, she took the time to instead squint against the light and try to identify faces. In theory, she knew where she was supposed to have ended up, but the veils could be temperamental when they wanted to. Better to confirm, rather than assume.
One man she didn’t recognize, his floppy dark hair everywhere as he struggled to keep the attacker down, but the second— after a moment to process— she absolutely did. Her mind blanked and rebooted, connecting the dots to his identity just as he pivoted smoothly, lifted one knee over the chain, and slammed it down into the dirt floor— breaking the ax-wielding maniac’s neck in the process.
A long, slow whistle reverberated in her mind. It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t her. Not so much of a naïve kid anymore, hm? Rae, her sister, asked merrily.
River mentally kicked her, which only made laughter echo. Go have fun, her sister whispered with a little nudge, just as the second man (Luis, it had to be) lost his cuffs and made his farewells to none other than Leon Kennedy. She retreated further into the shadows, standing stock-still within them as he hastily escaped past her— none the wiser that she stood mere inches away.
Only when he'd vanished into the depths of the building and Leon turned his attention to searching the room for something did she step forth. She took just a moment longer to study him, try to match the young man she’d met only two years past to the grown one before her. A similar haircut, though lighter than it had been last time; he’d grown a tiny bit taller, definitely broader and more muscular.
He grumbled at something, pulled the chain tight against the body on the floor, and turned away to look at the opposite wall. River took the opportunity to duck through the ragged cloth covering over the sole entrance.
“Hanging in there, stranger?” she asked softly, her voice the only sound in the room.
Leon jolted hard and whirled. The chain snapped, still hooked around the dead man’s neck; chances felt good that was the only reason she didn’t have to dodge a chain to the face. “Who’re you?” he demanded, hands tense on the chain. Wary, sharp blue eyes searched for her face beneath the coverings, but shadows concealed all detail— just as she'd intended.
She smiled before recalling he couldn’t see her face. “I’m almost offended,” she said instead, voice light and airy despite their surroundings. “I know it’s been a while since we saw each other last, but really, Leon?”
“That’s not an answer.” Despite the chains still wrapped tight around his wrists, he set himself as though preparing for another fight. "I'll ask again— who are you?"
She took another step forward; he tensed, just as her boot nudged something metallic on the floor. When she crouched to investigate, her fingers found the object Luis had thrown: a key. Leon went still as she straightened again. “... and what do you want?” he added warily.
“Bit rude to assume I want something.” She offered him the key in an open palm. When he wouldn’t take it, remained a solid five feet away from her while fiddling with his cuffs, she sighed. Her hair ruffled as she pulled her hood back; she ran one hand over it, then tugged her bandana down to lie around her neck. Face finally illuminated by the sole lightbulb in the room, River looked up and met Leon's gaze with a small smile. “Long time no see, old friend.”
A myriad of emotions crossed Leon’s face as he hesitated, halfway to reaching out for the key. Confusion, warping into dawning comprehension, shock… ending on something she couldn’t identify. "… River?" he asked, as though her face weren't enough proof of her identity.
"That's my name," she said lightly. Her fingers wiggled, key still extended. "I don't tend to go by any others."
Her light-hearted attempt at a joke fell flat. Leon continued to eye her with something approaching suspicion. After a hesitation, he reached out to snatch the key from her hand without another word.
Her smile faded as he worked at the lock on the manacles. Just a handful of steps closer, she peered up at his face; shadows deepened the preexisting dark circles beneath his eyes. A sickly pallor played over his skin, worse than the yellow lightbulb alone could explain away. “You look so old now," she added, almost playful. "Not sleeping much these days, hm? Or was the red-eye flight that bad?”
She stepped even closer, reached out to take his chin and inspect his face, but he jerked back, took two steps away from her. Her hand fell far short and dropped, empty, to her side. She let it go and tried not to be offended.
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.” He moved past her, giving her a wide berth, to peer down the hallway she’d just left. “… how’d you even get here? Or find me?”
“Oh, y'know— just followed the sounds of general chaos and mayhem. Usually doesn’t lead me astray.”
She hoped she’d avoided his question regarding how she’d even shown up in the first place, but he wouldn't be derailed that easily. “Can you get out of here? Got a quick exit, an evac plan?”
“I could, if I needed to. But I’m not going to.” River folded her arms across her chest. “I’m here for a reason, Leon. I’m here to help.”
“You can help by leaving.” Leon shot her a glance over one shoulder, half-hidden behind his hair. “I don’t need another person— tagging along. It’ll be hard enough—”
“Extracting Ashley?” She raised an eyebrow at him as he went still for a moment, then turned to face her straight on. “I’m shocked, frankly. Did I not prove I can pull my own weight back in—”
“Don’t.”
She faltered as he cut her off. “Just don’t… don’t say it.” His voice was gruff, low. He looked towards the doorway again, sighing heavily after a moment. “If you’re going to stick around, fine. Just don’t… we don't need to discuss that.”
So the situation was worse than she’d thought. Evidently he’d never purged the toxins from that long-ago night. Is therapy just… not a thing? “Oh, dear,” she murmured, just for her own ears. Louder: “All right. I won’t bring it up for now.”
“Ever,” Leon countered, but noises echoed down the hallway and both went silent. He dropped into a crouch; she carefully paced to the wall behind him and put her back to it. “Wait here.”
She huffed in quiet amusement; it seemed she'd be getting the escort treatment. “Sure you aren’t forgetting something?” She tapped her knife holster, placed the same spot he wore his. His, of course, was empty.
Leon grabbed for the holster. “Damn," he muttered when his fingers closed around thin air. "They must’ve taken my gear—”
A soft, put-upon sigh; she pulled her own knife, offered it to him carefully hilt-first. “Consider this a loan,” she said. “Do me a favor and don’t lose it?”
He practically snatched it out of her hand, then checked the corridor beyond and swapped to the other side of the doorframe when it remained empty. “... thanks,” he said after a pause. His eyes met hers for just a moment, then refocused on the hallway. “If you’re coming with, better stay close.”
“That was the plan.”
She stuck right on his heels as he walked down the corridor cautiously, glancing left and right, but the way she’d come from appeared to be a dead end. Soon they found themselves standing in some kind of pump house, running water flowing fast and loud beneath their feet. He poked his head into the next room, then held up a flat palm for her to stop moving. She did so, waiting as he crouched and sneaked through the doorway. A moment later, a wet squelch sounded that made her wrinkle her nose delicately.
“All clear.”
She followed after him, pistol at the ready, only for him to point to it. “Put that away. Don’t want to draw attention.”
“Yet,” she retorted, but holstered it regardless. “Fine. After you.”
He, once again, made her wait while he cleared the next room. Someone tried to shout, but the noise collapsed into a gurgle. She took that as a sign to follow him into the room, just in time to watch him pull her knife from a villager’s throat and let the man collapse. "Clean that before you return it, please?” she asked idly.
“Sure.” He cleaned it on the ganado’s shirt, which was arguably the same cleanliness as the rest of the muck in the building. She allowed herself an eye roll before she followed him further into the building.
They navigated through the ruins, River following Leon’s orders more-or-less to the letter. She did take out one ganado via pistol when he tried to get the jump on Leon. The man collapsed; Leon whirled, knife at the ready, just as she lowered her pistol. “You’re welcome.”
All he did was grunt and gesture to the crank he’d been investigating. “Help me out with this.”
She holstered her pistol and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him with one eyebrow high. “And?” she prompted, when he gave her a look like she was crazy.
Leon straightened, rolled his shoulders, and cast an exasperated look at the ceiling. “Please,” he said.
“There we go.” She patted him on the arm as she passed, then grabbed the wheel with both hands. “Better go get in position.”
He took off back the way they’d come to circle around, leaving her alone for a few short seconds. She took that time to chew on the inside of her cheek, again comparing the young man she’d known and the near stranger she now dealt with. Evidently the years since their last meeting hadn't been kind to him. Just how cruel, she couldn't say, but she could take a guess.
For a moment, River let herself mourn the sweet, starry-eyed boy she’d known and done her level best to protect in Raccoon City.
“Hey!” Leon raised a hand on the far door of the small room. “You gonna turn that or stand around daydreaming?”
“Hm, I dunno.” She took her hands off the wheel and rested them on her hips, staring at him through the bars. “Are you gonna be nice?”
The look he gave her clearly said he was wondering if he was better off without her. “Fine,” he gritted out. “Will you please open that so I can get my gear back?”
“Well, since you asked so politely…” She put her back into it, turning the wheel as quickly as she could. The door rose; Leon ducked under it and quickly put his kit back together. She leaned against the wall as she waited for him to finish, pistol ready for anyone who might try to sneak up on them.
The door opened just as she started to wonder if he was deliberately holding out on her. “All good,” he said, turning away even before the words finished. “C’mon. Let’s get going.”
“Just waiting on you.”
She followed him towards the doors leading outside, though he drew up short at the sight of the Merchant on the other side of the barred gate. “Psst!” the man called, gesturing them closer. “Over here, stranger!”
“What the fuck?”
“Well, he does seem friendlier than anyone you’ve met yet,” she pointed out. “Apart from me, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed dryly.
They arrived at the Merchant’s set-up without further dawdling, though River chose to hang back and check her gear. “Hey, Kennedy, can I have my knife back?” she called when she realized he still held onto it.
He glanced over, pulled it from his belt, and flipped it into the air. She watched it rotate blade over hilt, flying towards her, and timed her movements. Just as he seemed to realize what he’d done and pivoted hastily, reaching out, she snatched it out of the air, hilt-first. “Thanks.” She favored him with a tiny smile as she slid it back into its sheath.
Shopping took a while. River got bored after five minutes of discussion between Leon and the Merchant, pushing off the crates she leaned against and surveying the courtyard they stood in. She found a few crates sprayed with yellow spray paint, took pleasure in kicking them to bits. Ammo, mostly, though she did find a green herb in one and a viper in another. That she stabbed through the skull before it could bite her.
A crow cawed somewhere overhead as she straightened. “Hungry?” she asked the gray afternoon as a whole, looking up. “I’m not eating it. You’re welcome to it.”
One seemed to understand what she was saying. A crow took flight from the ruins high overhead, circling lower and lower. It landed five feet away from her, watching her with a beady eye and tilted head. “Go on,” she said, then backed away a few steps and crouched. “I won’t hurt you. Promise.”
It hopped forward, cawed at her again, and dug into the snake carcass. She sat on her heels for a little bit, arms crossed over her knees as she watched it eat. When it was done, it shook its head, ruffled its feathers, and made almost a croaking sound. She tilted her head like it had done before. Three large hops forward, and the crow ducked its head, dropping something a yard in front of her. It sparkled and shone when she squinted at it.
“Making friends?” Leon asked, and the crow took flight in a rush.
She glared at him over one shoulder as she stood. “More personable than you’re being, for sure,” she snarked, leaning down to pick up the item. To her surprise, it was a sapphire, perfectly cut and a little bit muddy. She wiped it on her pants and held it up to the sunlight. “Much nicer gifts, too.”
He whistled at the sight of the gem. “No kidding.”
“Done shopping?” She pocketed the sapphire; it had been a gift, after all. “Where to next?”
“The church in the village,” he said. Then he paused. “Though… I’m not sure where we are in relation to it.”
River looked up at the sky, then at their surroundings. “Well, get me up high enough and I’ll take a look,” she said, patting the stock of her rifle for emphasis. “If I’m not mistaken, we need to go… that way.” She pointed through the blocked doorway across from the Merchant’s table. “But, unfortunately for us, it's locked. And not just a simple lock, either. Looks like it needs some kind of crank, which the note says they stored over… there.” And she turned her point on the narrow bottleneck passage across the muddy courtyard from them.
Judging by the slump of his shoulders, Leon wasn’t impressed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Wish I was.” She drew her pistol again. “Don’t step in any bear traps, hey? Bit too far out for an easy tetanus shot.”
“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”
“And who’s the one who nearly tripped three of the damn things back in there?” She nodded back the way they’d come. “How about you go first and I’ll just yell if you’re gonna get trapped, hm?”
“Fine by me.” Without further comment, Leon headed towards the bottleneck.
As she expected, ganados tried to jump them nearly the moment they set foot in the narrow corridor. River fired whenever she could, cursing the twisty curves that limited her sight lines. Leon took care of most of them, right up until they reached a wooden barricade with a rusty ladder leading to a platform. He waited for her there, nodding at it. “Ladies first.”
“Oh, such a gentleman.” She scrambled up it fast, though she chose to lay on her stomach at the top and roll to one side. What she saw as she peered over the edge made her smile, ruthless.
Leon crouched beside her as she freed her rifle from her back. He let out a low, soft whistle at the construction spanning the valley below. Shaky rope bridges, rickety wooden scaffolding, a handful of shacks more crack than plank; all showed signs of neglect. “Think they’ve had an OSHA inspector out to investigate? I feel like most of this isn’t up to code.”
“They probably had the poor man for lunch.” River popped the bipod out and settled into her sniping spot, sighting through the scope at a man halfway across a bridge. She fired; his head jerked back. He staggered backwards, tipped over the knee-high rope railing, and tumbled into the depths. “Maybe they should’ve let him finish his inspection.”
Was that a snort of laughter? She didn’t pull away from the scope to check. “Call targets,” she ordered. “If I can see them, they’re mine.”
“Bossy.”
“That a problem?” She sighted for a woman on a platform beyond where the man had been. One shot and she staggered; before she could recover, River put a second bullet downrange that ended it.
“Beyond, up top,” Leon murmured. River adjusted her scope, spotting the man in question. Two bullets and he was dead. “You’re pretty good.”
“You sound so surprised. I’m almost offended.” She cleared the chamber. “Next target… ooooh, hello there…”
“What’ve you got?” he asked, but she just smiled.
The gun fired; the barrel exploded, taking out three ganados for the price of one. “We aren’t keeping score, but if we were, I’d be winning,” she said in a sing-song tone.
“You aren’t counting everyone I took out before you showed up.”
“Semantics,” she dismissed, just as someone shouted. “Ah, shit— think we got spotted.”
“You stay here. Keep it up,” he ordered as he rose to his feet. “I’ll handle those that get too close.”
“Sir yes sir,” she drawled sarcastically. “Do try not to get yourself killed, hm?”
“No promises.”
“Yes promises.” But he’d already jumped down to the ground, pistol at the ready and drawing attention. She let out a gusty sigh. “Men.”
They made a pretty good team, she thought; it took a good five minutes or so, but they cleared the valley blockade. She lifted her head from the scope to check more thoroughly, but no one else appeared. Leon was already halfway across the valley by the time she sat up, put her rifle on her back, and crawled to the edge of the platform. About a fifteen foot drop; she slid off the edge without room for hesitation, landing in a perfect roll that brought her back to her feet.
They met up at the other side of the valley, outside the shack where she figured the emblem they needed was stashed. She already had her pistol drawn when he stepped out of the house, a sturdy-looking bronze hexagon in hand. He nodded to her. “Nice shooting.”
“I could say the same of you. Don’t think you could do that hard of a roundhouse kick last time we fought together.” To be frank, it felt a little insane to watch him parry pickaxes and sickles with his knife, only to follow them up with a roundhouse kick that snapped necks. Especially when she remembered him so much younger, without the stamina or knowledge to fight like that. “I can’t imagine your bones thank you for all that.”
“It’s all in the technique.”
He gestured her back towards the entrance, just as they heard the hiss of dynamite. Both froze, looking for the source. She looked out— Leon looked up.
“Look out!”
She barely had time to turn before an arm wrapped around her waist and slung her away from the falling stick of dynamite. A sharp yelp escaped her at the sudden movement; she instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck and shoulders to try and protect his head. The dynamite went off; she hid her face, only to realize a moment later it was in his shirt. Shrapnel hit her jacket, but couldn’t penetrate the fabric.
Her ears rang in the aftermath; his chest vibrated beneath her hand. It took her a moment to realize he spoke to her. “-l right? River?”
She still held onto her pistol. That hand came up, used the arm around his shoulders to brace her aim. Three shots– the stick of dynamite in the man’s hand overhead exploded. “I’m good,” she said, half-breathless. “Just shell-shocked.”
“You sure about that? Didn’t seem shell-shocked to me.”
She let go of his neck as she realized she still clung on and stepped back a pace or two. Her voice stayed forcibly light as she said, “If I hadn’t been, maybe I could’ve sniped that out of thin air.”
Leon raised an eyebrow at her. “Now that I’d pay to see,” he said, then nodded back the way they'd come from. “C’mon. Let’s keep moving.”
Getting out of there, unfortunately, involved getting the gate open to retreat the way they’d come through. She chose to take the high road, racing up the switchback while Leon covered her and she took out anyone who got too close. The moment she reached the crank, she put her back into it, turning it as fast as she could. More shots— she ducked a bit, hoping she’d missed out on a pickaxe to the spine.
“That’s good enough!” Leon called from the ground. “C’mon!”
She let go, backtracked a few feet to a gap in the fencing, and jumped down. Another roll she turned into a jog; they headed back up the valley bottleneck, Leon covering their retreat, though no one seemed to be interested in following them. “Memories of goldfish,” she muttered. He definitely snorted that time.
She waved to the Merchant as they passed through the yard, glanced up to look for her crow friend, which was nowhere in sight. Leon placed the emblem into the slot; a crank popped out. She kept an eye out, despite knowing the yard remained a safe zone, while he turned the crank and the metal bars retreated into the walls.
When he opened the doors, he pushed them open with the full force of his weight, one staggered step at a time. River took a moment to blink at him, then forwent her ready stance to rest her hands on her hips. “Okay, there is no way those doors are that heavy."
“You want a go?” He stepped out of the way, gestured to them. She raised an eyebrow. One hand reached out, placed flat against the metal. It definitely felt solid and sturdy beneath her palm. “Go on— try it.”
She pivoted to literally put her back into it and shoved with all her strength. The door moved, but slowly, inch by inch. “Tempest’s tears, who the fuck built these things?” she muttered as she straightened. “Bodybuilders?”
“Not so easy now, is it?”
He was definitely trying not to laugh at her. She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me for thinking they might take better care of their architecture.”
“Too much to ask. Think they spend most of their time doing… whatever cults do.”
“Mm. No kidding. All right, lead on.”
Leon waved her to a stop just outside the old barn around the corner from the gates and vanished into the depths. She spent the better part of five minutes twiddling her thumbs, checking over her rifle for lack of anything better to do, before a call of “clear” sounded from within the barn. “This is gonna be a long night if every area ends up like this,” she muttered, slinging her rifle on her back and heading towards the entrance.
He met her at the base of the stairs as she sidestepped an unsprung bear trap, none the worse for wear as he shoved his knife back into the sheathe. “Way’s clear, at least to the top of the stairs. Beyond that’s anyone’s guess.”
“Well, it’s about to be ours,” she murmured, drawing her pistol and checking the magazine for good measure.
At the top of the stairs stood a firewood hut, flanked by chain link fences with barbed wire wound around the top. River eyed the setup with a frown. “Lots of resources for such a small village,” she murmured.
Leon paid her no mind, already halfway down the path and crouched behind a boulder. She followed suit and waited for him to get the first look at the area ahead. “Anything?”
“Nothing yet. Looks clear.” He stood and rounded the corner; she hastened to catch up.
To her left stood another shed, more enclosed than the firewood one behind them. To her right, unfortunately, lay an altar of sorts— with human skulls and other assorted bones littered across the surface of it. “Oh, gods be good,” she whispered to herself as she approached, neatly side-stepping another bear trap in the process.
“They look long-dead.”
He probably meant the bones themselves were old. She paused at the altar regardless to survey the careless pile of remains. Before she could say anything further, though, a shout echoed from somewhere nearby. A chainsaw revved up a split second after. “Ah, shit,” Leon said with dry resignation halfway across the clearing, lifting his pistol as she did the same.
Two villagers appeared from the way they’d come from, though how they’d gotten onto the path when she knew he’d cleared it she wasn’t sure. She capped the first man wielding an ax when he wound up to throw, just as Leon took out the second one and pivoted to face the other direction. “Rifle support!” he called, as the engine roared.
“That was the plan!” River swapped guns, aiming straight at the bag over his head and pulling the trigger. The man staggered, giving Leon time enough to get close enough and roundhouse kick him to the ground. Knife out, he finished the job before the ganado could get up again.
Silence once again settled over the clearing; River straightened, slinging her rifle to her back. “Hey,” she called to Leon, approaching at a decent pace and skirting another bear trap. He waited just at the exit to the area, glancing over his shoulder at her before returning his attention to the way forward. Just as she reached him, she snagged his bicep with her free hand. A quick squeeze made him look down at her; she met his gaze, unflinching, unafraid. “Quit treating me like a subordinate, or worse, someone helpless. We’re a team, or at least I’m here to be part of one.”
Maybe something in her words finally reached him; perhaps the words themselves, perhaps the tone. She couldn't say for sure. Whatever it was, Leon looked down across the scant inches between them— finally looked at her for the first time she could recall since her arrival. Blue eyes met green for a lingering moment. Finally, he gave her a slow nod. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Do better than try.” She squeezed his arm again for good measure, then let go. “I’m following your lead because I want to, not because you ordered me to. Remember that.”
He let out a heavy sigh, but nodded and led the way up the stairs.
At the top, two stone walls flanked the entrance to the nicest house she’d seen yet in the village (not that it meant much). “Pretty,” River murmured, just as a beeping noise nearby caught her attention. “Leon, you hear that?”
“Yep.” He’d skidded to a stop ahead of her while she looked at the house, right before the entrance. She spotted the explosives, the tripwire stretched across the entrance; her eyes widened. “Take ten steps back.”
For once, she was happy to obey, retreating all the way back to the top of the stairs. “What are you gonna do?” she asked as he drew his knife and crouched by the explosives. After a moment of fiddling, the tripwire shot through the air with a zing, back to the spool opposite.
“That. Should be clear.” He stood and tucked his knife away. “C’mon.”
Once again, they fell in step side-by-side as they bypassed the manor in favor of the gate back to the village. Of course, as had been their luck so far, it was padlocked shut. River rattled the bars and sighed. “Great. Let’s hope the key’s nearby.”
Leon turned back to look at the house. “Probably in there.”
“Probably,” she echoed, as they went to check the front door. That, too, was locked tight. She stepped off to the side as Leon peered through a window beside the front door, her own attention already elsewhere as she craned her neck to see around the side of the house. “Hey, come this way— mind the bear traps—”
That pathway led to another door— unlocked. Leon pushed it open carefully; River leaned around the door frame to see inside, pistol drawn and at the ready. “I hear someone,” she warned.
“Think it’s that door.” Leon pointed to the one under the stairs.
She wrinkled her nose. “You smell that?”
“Wish I didn’t.” He waved her into the house; she tread carefully over the floorboards, keeping her pistol trained on the door he’d pointed out. “Ready?”
She gave a resolute nod. He kicked the door open. The villager inside turned away from whatever was inside, growling— right before River fired twice. Two bullets staggered him backwards; Leon finished the job.
“Disgusting,” she said, lowering her gun. “Now I really want a shower.”
“You’ve been here for what? Thirty minutes?”
“And? We’ve been running through mud the entire time.” She offered her combat boot for inspection, shook it. Caked-on mud dropped to the wood floor. She winced. “Whoops. Feel bad for the housekeeper now.”
“Don’t think they’ve got one.” Leon nodded to the rest of the house. “C’mon. Let’s find that key.”
They passed the stairs leading up in favor of exploring the downstairs first; privately, River figured the key would likely be anywhere but out in the open, but she still lived in hope. “Someone’s showing up their neighbors,” Leon murmured as they reached the front door again.
River fiddled with the padlock while he explored the kitchen. “Locked, and needs a key,” she said as he stepped back out. “Looks like we aren’t leaving that way either.”
“There’s always the back entrance.”
He picked up a photo off the dining table and turned it over; she stuck her head through the archway at the back of the room. An enormous cabinet stood at the end of the room, padlocked shut. Where are they getting all these locks from?
Unimportant. “Hey, Leon– come look at this.”
She approached, spun the dials just to see what happened. Instead of displaying numbers, each dial displayed pictographs of some kind. A presence loomed behind her; she leaned to one side, lifted the lock to let him see more clearly. “Any ideas?”
“Nope.”
Without further comment, he swiped something off the top of the table beside the armoire before retreating. River allowed herself just a moment to roll her eyes before she dropped the padlock and trailed him back into the house proper. Downstairs thoroughly cleared, his attention turned towards the upstairs; he took the steps up two at a time. She nearly ran into his back at the top as he stopped short to look at a book lying face-up on yet another side table.
“Hey. This passage.” He pointed to the page. “Think this is the code?”
She side-stepped to peer over his arm and read through the ‘scripture’, though it wasn’t like any she’d ever seen before. “Yeah, probably. Crop, pig… baby? What the fuck is wrong with these people?”
“A lot,” he said grimly. “Want to go try it out?”
“We splitting up or sticking together?” She'd already turned back towards the stairs, though she kept an eye on him for his response.
Leon only turned away from the table and followed after her with an eye-roll of his own.
Back at the armoire, she grabbed the padlock and spun the dials in quick succession. “Crop, pig, baby,” she muttered to herself, before the final dial spun into place and the padlock clicked open. “Nailed it. Good call. Let's see what we've got.”
The doors swung open; if she had expected treasure beyond her wildest comprehension, she'd have been sorely disappointed. Luckily, she'd tempered her expectations accordingly and was instead only mildly disappointed when the contents revealed themselves. A bunch of old, dusty books, Spanish names inscribed on the spines, lined the shelves. Her gaze traveled up, only to catch on some kind of crystal ball, perched neatly on a small tripod stand.
Before she could reach out, a hand slipped past her and lifted the orb from its stand. “Pricey,” Leon commented, tossing it up and catching it again.
“Probably." She turned back to look at him, crossed her arms over her chest. "What, we’re just stealing whatever’s not nailed down now?”
He shrugged. “They’re trying to kill us. Fair’s fair.”
“Yeah, well, when you put it like that…”
He didn't smile, but she thought she caught a flicker of something in his eyes before he turned away. "C'mon. We didn't finish checking the second floor."
Just halfway up the stairs, though, an unearthly hissing, rattling sound echoed from somewhere below. The hair on the back of her neck stood up; she grabbed for her pistol. “What the fuck—”
Leon swung his shotgun over the railing, sighting into the corridor they’d cleared just minutes ago. He fired, once, twice– something collapsed to the ground. She looked over the railing, pistol still in hand. The man she’d killed once lay there, head at a 90 degree angle. Worst of all, tentacle-like growths writhed from an enormous gash in the side of his neck.
“Oh, what the fuck,” she repeated at a whisper.
“Yep.” Grim-faced, Leon gestured for her to move on. At the top of the stairs, River paused to let him go first. Far from being the elaborate, sprawling manor she'd half-expected, only one door opened out onto the second floor hallway. Leon tried the handle. Locked. Typical.
But he didn't turn away, didn't give up. Instead he inspected something in the door, then reached into his pocket to extract the crystal ball. She watched as he carefully fit it into something in the door. Whatever orifice it was, the orb fit perfectly. “How’s about that?” she murmured, just before he started messing with it. “What’s up?”
“Need to match the drawing,” he said tersely.
“Mm.” She shut up to let him concentrate, choosing instead to keep an eye on the way they’d come from. No further sounds, just the marble turning in the socket. Something clicked; all four locks on the door disengaged simultaneously with a loud ca-chunk.
“Nice,” she murmured. “After you.”
He headed inside; she brought up the rear, moving far more slowly than him. Another book sat face-up and open on some kind of altar; he went to investigate that. She peered out the window for a moment, surveying the winding path that lead back towards the village proper, then moved to the wardrobe beside the four-poster bed to look at the carvings on the face of it.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, though: loud footsteps echoed from somewhere downstairs. Both she and Leon, who had just closed a desk drawer, froze.
"Leon—"
“Hide!” he hissed over her words, pointing to beneath the bed as he hastened for the entrance. “Stay quiet. Don’t come out until I say.”
For once, arguing seemed too risky. She dropped to her knees instead, then went to her stomach and rolled underneath the bed. When she scrambled to the far side to watch what happened, Leon had drawn his pistol, pointing at the door. He fumbled for something— tossed it towards the bed. Metal skittered over wood, stopped at River's hand. A key, forged in the same plaga pattern displayed all over the village.
She'd just wrapped her fingers around it when the door burst open. Heavy footfalls successfully hid her flinch; she squirmed further beneath the bed, heart in her throat, unable to tear her gaze away from whatever happened next. Leon retreated, firing repeatedly— one, two, three shots, none of which so much as slowed the enormous man in the black leather trenchcoat and broad-brimmed hat approaching him.
Father Mendez.
Fear prickled up her spine, but she couldn't risk revealing herself to help. Mendez promptly tested that resolve when he wound up and kicked Leon into the wall so hard River bit her lip and tasted blood. He tried to go for his gun— Mendez stepped on his arm before he could reach it. She watched, silent and horrified, as he leaned down and grabbed Leon by the throat, lifted him bodily into the air, ignoring his struggle to escape.
“Your blood has accepted the gift,” he intoned.
Her resolve hardened. River drew her pistol and carefully, carefully, aimed from beneath the bed. Body shots only, she told herself— no use hitting Leon in the process—
Before her finger even touched the trigger, gunfire echoed. She ducked on instinct, then looked up again just in time to watch Mendez, suddenly hatless, fling Leon towards the foot of the bed.
He hit the solid wooden bedframe hard enough it shook, a sudden additional barrier between her and Mendez. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, River grabbed his wrist where it lay on the ground, just out of Mendez' line of sight. She took a slow, steady breath— and called on the core in her chest. A strand of thread unspooled out, down her arm and through her fingers, weaving into his own arm. Undirected, she could only hope the spark of healing would fix whatever problems Mendez' little stunt caused.
Mendez himself turned towards them, judging by the way Leon tensed again, but he didn't approach for a second round. Instead he passed by the bed on his way out, only stooping to pick up his hat where it lay on the floor by the door.
And then, just as suddenly as he'd arrived, he was gone again.
“Gift?” Leon asked the sudden silence, voice hoarse and rough. He coughed. “In my blood?”
She fought every urge in her to say, “It’s more likely than you think.” Wrong decade, River. Instead she let go of his wrist, rolled out from under the bed, and scrambled to his side. “Let me see,” she ordered as she reached him. She scarcely waited for him to nod before she reached out and took his chin in one hand, lifting it up to see better. Sure enough, he’d likely be bruised around the throat later, unless that directionless blast of pure healing chose to handle it. She hissed softly. “Yeah, that’ll leave a mark. I’m sorry, Leon.”
“You helped,” he croaked. Another cough; when he spoke, he sounded at least marginally better. “Those shots.”
She shook her head. “Wasn’t me. Someone outside fired that.”
He frowned, but she didn’t give him more time to think. “Are you good to stand? We should probably keep moving.”
“... yeah. Let’s go.”