Chapter 12: Day At The Museum

Gregory Cross

Monday 16, February 2015

09:26 Hours

Paris, France

"Alright, but be careful."

"I will."

Gregory Cross snuck into a highly-secure data using nothing but a lock-pick and quick reflexes, both of which he owes them to Joshua. Finally, he reached the backdoor and in he went. The Museum was dark and silent, in stark contrast of the bustling city outside. He pulled out a small handgun from it's holster at his side, and slowly made his way down the maze of halls. Blood splatters decorated the exhibitions as a tribute to some pagan god, and from time to time Greg could swear he saw a limb or two tucked away behind some statue. His pathway led him through to the exhibition where it all started, the supposed terrorist attack, and his breath caught. The whole area's floor was covered by bodies. Little girls and boys; men; and women, all bloody and many maimed. The terror of seeing this kind of scene again sent him stumbling back, crashing against. He struggled to get a grip, knowing he had to go on, so he pulled back his jacket's shirt and bit hard on his hand, right under the thumb. The pain worked, and he stood, blood dripping from his newly made bite.

"Man, I've got to think of easier ways to calm down."

Taking a deep breath, he finally walked into the big exhibition. He gingerly stepped around the bodies, from time to time poking them with his foot to make sure they were really dead. A loud noise, that of a metal door slamming shut, preceded hushed voices, and Greg instantly ducked into cover. He cocked the handgun and listened, hoping to get some information out of the voices.

"It'll be fine, don't worry." The voice of a young male stated to an unknown companion. "We don't have to go further than the offices."

"But, this is uncomfortable... People died here..." A girl voice replied. "Lets go home... Please..."

"Hey, babe. Relax. Everything's going to be fine." The guy answered. They seemed to get closer. "We'll just do what we came to do and get out."

"O-okay." She stuttered in fear. A clank was heard, and the girl detected it: "D-d-did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" The guy replied. They seemed to have stopped, but Greg wasn't waiting around to find out what they were going to do. He moved further down, keeping out of sight. "I think you're making this up to scare me."

"I'm not." She said. Greg was about to go out, when she added: "I think it's moaning."

"Don't be ridiculous! This place's been thoroughly scoured for body. There's no way-"

A grunt later and the girl was screaming at the top of her lungs. Greg cursed and dashed for them, when he saw what was happening. A baby boy was clinging to the guy's leg, chewing into it. What made it worse was how the lower torso of the baby was missing. The girl was clutching her head a tad further down the hall, and Greg quickly acted with remorse, shooting the infected baby. The gunshot was loud and clear, and the bullet's trajectory was dead-on, but something was wrong. Because the gunshot seemed to mingle into a too-close grunting sound.

"BEHIND YOU!!!"

The cry gave Greg enough seconds to turn around and catch the bloodied hands of an infected woman, but her momentum sent Greg stumbling back. His instinct kicked in, and as he fell he pulled hard on the infected woman's arms and brought his feet into her belly, sending her flying over his head in one fluent movement. The second he hit the floor, he spun onto his feet and picked up his handgun, which he instantly aimed and fired. Swiping his brow with his sleeve, Greg stood and went to the girl.

"We need to go." He extended his hand towards her. "This place isn't safe."

"But, my-"

"He's been bitten. From what I know, there's nothing anyone can do to help." Greg helped her stand, then added: "But, for now, we need to get out of here."

"Why?" She asked. "You killed those things."

"Doesn't mean there aren't others." Greg's ringtone then informed him he had a text message. "Either way, we're still somewhere we're not supposed to do, so lets get going."

He led her out of the area and finally delivered her home, where she informed him that she greatly appreciated his help. Once she was safe inside her house, Greg headed down the street and pulled out his phone. Opening it, he read the text, and grimaced. It indicated an address, but it was from someone who he didn't like at all. The text also informed Greg who the address belonged to and that they'd meet in the location. With a grimace, he walked to the place, which was quite close. Upon reaching the location, his heart skipped a beat. The house was an infernal blaze, with firemen trying to fight it all around the house. Greg spotted his sister and Beatrix among the crowd, and made his way towards them.

"What's going on?" He asked upon arriving.

"No idea." Jane stated, her eyes ever-fixed upon the blazing fire. "But I know for a fact that the people who lived here are dead."

"That's not good, right?"

"Right."

"Then, what do we do?" Greg asked. "What CAN we do?"

"We go back to Avatar City. We bide our time and keep our eyes and ears open." Jane answered, her voice stone cold. "We make sure to be ready. I might not know what's going on, but I know one thing: Something big is coming, and we're right in the middle of it."

Chapter 11: The Geek

Jane Cross

Monday 16, February 2015

09:26 Hours

Paris, France

"Alright, but be careful."

Jane hung up her phone as all around her the streets of Paris were already filled with cars. She had flown in two days ago, and only now did the reason she came was available. She entered a building and up the elevator she went, to the fifth floor. Her objective was room 509, where she knocked on the door. A rattling sound, like a lot of heavy objects clattering to the ground, was heard and the door opened a tiny bit. Through the crack Jane could see long blond hair and green, half-opened eyes.

"Hello, Beatrix." Jane waved her hand in an awkward salute.

"What do you want?" Beatrix Hobson said, angrily. "If you're selling something, I ain't buying it."

"Bea, it's me, Jane!"

"Hold on." Beatrix's head vanished and returned once more with glasses on. Upon seeing Jane, she cried out in glee and slammed the door shut. A rattle later and Beatrix was hugging her childhood friend. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, Bea." Jane replied, equally thrilled.

"Well! Come on in, then!"

Beatrix Hobson, twenty one. A true genius, she grew up as the best friend of Jane and Joshua, but when they were still in school, she was finishing college. Soon, she was working full time and, eventually, moved to Paris. According to Beatrix, she moved to Paris to find the right French guy, but Jane always thought that was a lie. Her home was an utter mess, with books scattered all over the floor and any flat surface. An enormous desktop computer sat in the back, by a window covered with blinds. Several laptops stood open upon the table, and a half-eaten meal lay before an upturned chair.

"You really need to clean."

"Or get a French maid." Beatrix giggled. She shoved some books off of one of the chairs and gestured at it. "So! What brings you to my humble abode."

"I need information of some events that have occurred here in Paris. And, since I don't speak French, I require your services." Jane stated, knowing she couldn't afford beating around the bush.

"I'm a secretary-"

"Who got her bachelors' degree at the age of sixteen, and who currently has a Doctorate in Computer Engineering." Jane interrupted her. "I know you. No lock or password can keep you out."

"I dunno what you're talking about." Beatrix looked away, trying to appear innocent.

"Beatrix, please. I need your help."

"Fine..." Beatrix sighed. She could never refuse Jane. "But you'll owe me one, you understand?"

"With pleasure."

"Alright then. What do you need?" Beatrix stood and stomped to the desktop.

"Information concerning the outbreaks in the USA; France; and Japan on the sixth of this month."

"Not a thing." Beatrix replied a few minutes later. "There was no such thing, according to the world's eye."

"Can you dig deeper?" Jane asked.

"Can French sound sexy? Of course I can." Beatrix replied, smirking. Several minutes afterwards, she said: "Bad news, sister. This information you're looking for is deep. Very deep."

"How deep is that?"

"So deep that I could- and most probably will- get killed if they find out I got to it." Beatrix turned to Jane. "I can get it, but before I do: Why do you want it?"

"I survived the outbreak in the USA. Soon, I saw the news saying it was a terrorist attack. That caught my attention, so I searched up the intel I could without digging too deep. Turns out two other 'terrorist attacks' happened at roughly the same time in both Japan and France." Jane explained. "This clearly points out that there was no way the whole thing was a coincidence. So, I dug about and narrowed the terrorist attack in France to Paris. That brought me to you."

"Cute story. But, why do you want to run headfirst into this? What's your motivation?"

"Joshua gave up himself completely to the military so that I and the other survivors could be freed." Jane stated. "I won't stop until I find the truth about this because my job is to do so, and because Joshua's freedom stands in the balance."

"That's good enough for me." Beatrix smiled softly. "You've always had a deep devotion to each other." A the screen suddenly turned into a long document, and Beatrix turned her attention to it: "Well, it says here that there were survivors. No surprise, you're here, and so is Greg. Is he still afraid of clowns?"

"You did frighten him good, back then." Jane giggled. "Anyway, any survivors from Paris?"

"Yes. Three people. A family, as a matter of fact."

"Can you dig up their address?" Jane asked, standing.

"That's the one." Beatrix pointed at the screen, where the address of the family was clearly stated.

"Text it to this number." Jane said, handing her childhood friend a slip of paper. "Now, it's time to do what I was raised to do."

"Good luck. And, be careful."

Jane and Beatrix bid each other farewell, and Jane went on her way. Beatrix texted the number the address, then went to the Desktop and began to work, making sure there would be nothing left to trace back to her; or Jane. If Beatrix knew one thing, was that Jane was getting into some deep trouble. And she wasn't going to allow her friend to go through it alone. So, making sure her tracks were gone, she shut down her desktop, bagged a laptop, and dashed out of her apartment.