@mettamorph
"Nothing to do with the guy."
She's half-smiling as she says it, lit cigarette tucked into the corner of her lips. A thin curl of smoke rises from the cherry-red tip. To see her face, despite her protestations, it might seem like Emily's almost... nostalgic for it.
"It was the cleanup. He was a type-one, maybe a type-two-A. Spit some nasty gunk at the local law enforcement that was called when he slopped into town, but it was just corrosive, not infectious. Law enforcement blew his head open like a watermelon, and we..."
She turns in her chair, setting the paper she was looking at back on a tidy stack of file folders. "...got to try and figure out how it happened. Like I said. One guy, one animal, one mutation, in one of the most biodiverse places on the planet."
A deep, heavy breath. Emily doesn't look like she's enjoying the memory much any more. "It was a week and a half of wading around in the jungle with no idea what we were looking for, and in the end? It turned out to be dead anyway. Wild boar. Carcinomas were a genetic match to whatever parts of our guy they could scrape off the walls."
Finally, those grey-blue eyes go from her work to Carla. "At least Neo Umbrella keeps records. Mother Nature sure doesn't."
