RF0 Chapter 2

A disproportionate amount of time is spent removing mold from the locker and shower room on the second floor of RPD. The space is prone to dampness, and virtually unventilated. As far as anyone knows, there are no plans to change that. Joelle “Joey” Frost leans, arms folded, gazing with a little envy at the woman in the shower. The steam doesn’t hide much of Forest Speyer’s smooth, lithe, caramel body. Like this, her black hair is straight, but it’ll explode with frizz the second she tries to dry it.

Joey can hardly see her reflection in the fogged mirror. Her hair behaves, at least. She’ll still never have looks like Forest’s. On the other hand, Joey’s not the one who got puked on today, so who’s to say who really has all the luck?

“Do you need to borrow clothes?” Joey asks.

“Yes,” Forest replies, soapy bubbles sliding across smooth skin as she washes her body.

“Underwear too?”

“If possible.”

Joey goes to her locker and pulls out her duffel. Forest is the hot one and good at her job, but preparedness is not her strong suit. Joey doesn’t want to be bitter, but it’s so obvious that Forest is Wesker’s favorite that it’s hard not to judge a little. “Are we gonna talk about Carla and Bradlee?”

“You think they’re doing it again?”

“I know it.”

“You sound judgy.”

Joey bristles. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Forest turns around, presenting full-frontal nudity. Joey grimaces and looks away. “Do you disapprove because Carla’s a team lead, or because you think we should only hook up with people on our own teams?”

“Maybe STARS just doesn’t need that drama at all.”

“Maybe you want some divorced Latina team leader cock, and you’re just jealous,” Forest says.

“Oh, OK.” Joey mimes a phone with her hand and puts it to her ear. “Hold on. Projection? I told you to stop calling me. Hang on. It’s for you.” She offers the imaginary phone to Forest, who laughs and goes back to lathering up her hair.

“I actually thought she had a thing for Berry.”

“Who, Carla? She does. But Bradlee’s a blonde half her age. How’s Berry going to compete with that? And she’s married.”

“See, I think that’s a bad person interpretation of it.”

“I’m a bad person?”

“You’re the worst person. You’re a war criminal.”

Forest scoffs. “Because I was in the military?”

Joey eyes some spots on the ceiling worriedly. She doesn’t know much about mold, but it seems gross. “Yeah, and you don’t even have a change of clothes.”

“I had one! I used it when that kid spat Capri Sun on me.”

“Because you were doing dirty cop shit, I’m sure. Kids aren’t dumb. I keep saying this.”

“I was explaining that recreational weed isn’t legal here yet!”

“Why are we yelling?”

“Because you’re an asshole. Chris was in the military too. Gonna call him a war criminal?” Forest points an accusing finger, which drips soapy bubbles.

“No. He’s nice, and attractive in a way that doesn’t make me feel threatened,” Joey says, looking at her nails.

Forest shakes her head and starts rinsing off.

Jill enters the locker room, looking a little weird in a pale blue blouse tucked into her jeans. It’s not a bad look; it’s just not her.

“Didn’t recognize you without your big-ass shoulder pads,” Joey mutters.

Jill ignores that. “What are you guys doing?”

“Serious policework.”

Jill ignores Joey. “Forest, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Running interference with the captain.”

“Why me?”

“You know why.”

“I am not Wesker’s favorite!” Forest wails.

“Are you in or out?”

“Depends. Are we going after Umbrella?”

“We have to.”

“I’ll help you if you let me borrow some underwear. Joey’s are too big.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Joey says.

“Why do you need it?” Jill asks.

“A guy threw up on me.”

“You don’t have to make shit up. If you want my underwear, just ask.”

The door opens, and Chris Redfield comes through. Everyone freezes, including him.

“Hey!” Jill, Joey, and Forest squawk in unison. Chris flinches and backs out, yanking the door shut a heartbeat before a bottle of conditioner bounces off of it.

“Asshole,” Forest says.

“Did you put the sign up?” Jill asks.

Forest hesitates, then grins. “I forgot.”

Jill shakes her head and bends to pick up the bottle. “This is like sixty bucks. Whose is this?”

“Rookie,” Joey says.

“Rebecca doesn’t have that kind of money. She can’t even afford to have hair.”

“Neither does Leon, but he still buys it,” Forest says.

Jill considers the bottle, expression flat. “How come he’s not the one wandering in here like he’s lost when we’re naked?”

“Right?” Forest and Joey say in unison.

RF0

Chris Redfield stands in the hallway and scratches his head, listening to muffled howls of laughter from the locker room.

“Officer Redfield?”

He turns. “Oh, hi, Rebecca. I keep telling you to call me Chris.”

“Right.” She blushes, fidgeting. She wears the old-fashioned RPD workout uniform: green shorts and a crop top with RPD printed on it. Chris doesn’t have the heart to tell her that some of her colleagues on Bravo Team swapped it in as a prank. She doesn’t seem to have realized that nobody else wears anything like it. “Can I ask your advice?”

“I wouldn’t,” says a voice behind them. It’s Edna Dewey. She’s around Berry’s age, with wild, black hair and a bony physique. Chris isn’t about to say it, but Edna reminds him quite a bit of his gay aunt. Vibes aside, Dewey is the best shooter in the outfit, and according to Jill and Forest, an excellent dancer. “Unless you mean to ask him about macros and nootropics.”

“Noo whats?” Chris says.

“I stand corrected. Go on.” Edna puts her arm around Rebecca and makes a shooing gesture. “Go and pick up something heavy and then put it down again. You know you want to.”

“That’s not nice,” Rebecca chides her.

Chris grins. “It’s OK. You’ll get better advice from Edna, Rebecca. She was a cop when I was still in marching band.”

“I’ll bet you were good at that,” Rebecca says.

Chris shrugs modestly and goes.

Edna and Rebecca move aside as a few uniformed officers hurry past. “Rebecca, here is what you have to do. You have to ask yourself if you know the difference between feelings of romantic attraction and feelings of hero worship. Do you know the difference?”

Rebecca’s jaw drops. “I haven’t asked you anything yet.”

“I was born at night, Rebecca. Not last night. I won’t tell you not to shoot your shot, but I will tell you only to do it if you’re sure that you know what you want and who you want it from.”

Blushing, Rebecca doesn’t know what to say.

Edna leans down to force eye contact. “Do you have feelings for Jill and the captain? Or do you just want to be like them? My advice is that you think about that question instead of just staring at them all the time and wondering how to get their attention. OK?” She pats Rebecca’s bottom and moves on, leaving her standing there, red and sweating.