– except that suddenly, he heard heavy boots com-ing down the metal stairs from B2, the hollow clump echoing through the hall. And then a rough, hesitant voice calling out.
"Jill?"
Barry Burton, as I live and breathe.
Wesker raised his weapon coolly, ready to fire when Barry stepped into view and then lowered it thoughtfully. After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face.
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
"Jill?"
Barry Burton, as I live and breathe.
Wesker raised his weapon coolly, ready to fire when Barry stepped into view and then lowered it thoughtfully. After a moment, a slow grin spread across his face.
EIGHTEEN
JILL EASED INTO THE STEAMING, HISSING room, a thick smell of grease in the heated air. It was some kind of a boiler room, and a big one; heavy, thrumming machinery filled the large chamber, sur– rounded by winding catwalks. Massive turbines spun and pounded, generating power in a steady whine as hidden ducts spat out steam at short intervals. She moved slowly into the poorly lit chamber, peering down one of the railed walkways into the fluctuating shadows cast by the towering generators. From where she was, she could see that the place was a labyrinth of paths, twining around the giant blocks of noisy machinery. The source of the estate's power. That explains how they managed to keep it a secret for so long, they had their own little city out here, totally autonomous, probably had their food shipped in, too. She turned down the narrow walk to her right, watching uneasily for any more of the strange, pale zombies that she'd seen in the corridors of B3. The path seemed clear, but with the movement and noise created by the turbines… Something ripped at her left shoulder, a sudden, violent slash that tore open her vest and scraped the skin beneath. Jill spun and fired, the roar of the shotgun drowning out the hissing machines. The blast hit metal, pellets ricocheting into the empty walk. There was nothing behind her.
Where?
A lunging, blade-like claw sliced the air in front of her face, swooping down from above. She stumbled back, staring up at the steel mesh of the ceiling and saw a dark shape skitter out of the shadows, hooking its way across the grate incredibly fast, curving claws at its hands and feet. She caught a glimpse of thick spines around its mutant, flattened face and then it turned and ran into the thrumming shadows of the power room. There was a door at the end of the walk and Jill sprinted toward it, heart racing, the pounding whine of the generators thundering in her ears. She was five feet from the door when she saw the moving shadow position itself in front of her. She raised the shotgun and leaned back -
–more of them! There were two of the creatures overhead, squat, terrible things with vicious, curving hooks instead of hands. One of them dropped down suddenly, hanging by clawed feet to swipe at her with its bladed arm. Jill fired and the creature screeched, the blast hitting it in the chest. It fell from the ceiling with a clatter, thick blood oozing out of the ragged wound. She turned back toward the entrance and ran, hearing the patter of claws against the mesh overhead. Another of the aberrant monkey-like things swung down in front of her, and Jill ducked, afraid to stop running. The thing's strange arm whistled past her ear, missing her head by less than an inch. The metal doors were in front of her. Jill crashed into them, slapping one handle down and stumbling back into the cold stillness of the corridor. The door closed on the furious, shrill cry of one of the mon– sters, rising high over the sounds of the working machines. She sagged against the door, gasping and saw Barry Burton standing midway down the chilled, silent hall. He hurried toward her, an expression of deep worry on his rugged, bearded face.
"Jill! Are you alright?" She pushed away from the door, surprised. "God, Barry, where have you been? I thought you'd gotten lost in the tunnels." Barry nodded grimly. "I did. And I ran into some trouble trying to get out."
She saw the splatters of blood on his clothing, the rips and tears in his shirt, and realized that he must have come across more of those walking green night– mares. He looked like he'd been through a war.
Speaking of…
Jill touched her shoulder, her ringers coming away bloody. It was painful but shallow; she'd survive.
"Barry, we've got to get out of here. I found some papers upstairs, proof of what's been going on. Enrico was right, Umbrella's behind all of this and one of the
S.T.A.R.S. knew about it. It's too dangerous to keep looking around, we should get those files and head back to the mansion, wait for the RPD." "But I think I found the main lab," Barry said. "Downstairs, there's an elevator at the end of the hall. There are computers and stuff. We can get into their files, really nail 'em."
He didn't seem excited by the find, but Jill barely noticed. With the information they could get from Umbrella's database: names, dates, research mate– rial…
We can find out everything, present the investigators with the whole, messy package… Jill nodded, grinning. "Lead the way."
The tunnels had been a cold, miserable maze, but the map had led them through quickly. Rebecca and Chris had reached the first basement level, both of them shivering and wet – and not a little freaked out by the dead creatures they'd passed along the way. The Umbrella scientists had been disgustingly cre– ative in their approach to making monsters. Chris rattled the door that supposedly led to the heliport, but it was solidly locked, an emergency sign next to it implying that it could only be opened by an alarm system. He'd hoped to send Rebecca out with the radio while he searched for the others. He looked down the narrow stairwell and sighed, turning to her. "I want you to stay here. If you stand by the elevator, you should be able to pick up Brad's signal from outside. Tell him where we are and what happened – and if I'm not back in twenty minutes, get back to the courtyard and wait there until help comes." Flustered, Rebecca shook her head. "But I want to go with you! I can take care of myself, and if you find the lab, you'll need me to tell you what you're looking at." "No. For all we know, Wesker already killed the other S.T.A.R.S. and is looking to finish the job. If we're the last ones, we can't risk both of us getting
ambushed. Somebody has to survive and tell people about Umbrella. I'm sorry, but it's the only way."
He smiled at her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"And I know you can take care of yourself. This isn't about your competence, okay? Twenty minutes. I just have to see if anyone else made it."
Rebecca opened her mouth as if to protest further and then closed it, nodding slowly. "Okay, I'll stay. Twenty minutes."
Chris turned and started down the ladder, hoping he could keep his promise to come back. The captain had successfully deceived them all, acting the part of concerned leader for weeks while the people in Rac-coon City had died and all along he'd known why. The man was a sociopath. It seemed that Umbrella had created more than one kind of monster. And it was time to find out how much damage he'd done.
Barry couldn't bring himself to look at Jill as they took the elevator down to B4. Wesker would be waiting for them at the bottom, and Jill would find out that he had been helping the captain all along. He'd killed three more of the violent, springing creatures down in the tunnels before making it to the lab only to run into Wesker, who had insisted that he lure Jill down to B4 and assist him in locking her up. The smiling bastard had reminded Barry of his family's situation and promised again that it was the last thing he'd have to do, that after Jill was safely locked away he'd call his people off -
–except he's said that every time. Find the crests
and you're free. Help me in the tunnels, you're free.
Betray your friend…
"Barry, are you okay?"
He turned to her as the elevator stopped, looking miserably into her concerned, thoughtful eyes.
"I've been worried about you ever since we got to the mansion," she said, laying a hand across his arm. "I even thought – well, never mind what I thought. Is something wrong?"
He pulled the gate open and raised the mesh outer door, an excuse to look away. "I… yeah, something's wrong," he said quietly. "But now's not the time. Let's just get this over with."
Jill frowned but nodded, still looking concerned.
"Okay. When this is over, we can talk."
You won't want to talk to me when this is over.
Barry stepped out into the short hallway and Jill followed, their boots clanking across a steel grate. The hall turned to the left just ahead and Barry slowed down on the pretense of checking his weapon, letting Jill get in front of him. They turned the corner and Jill froze, staring into the muzzle of Wesker's raised Beretta. He grinned at them, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, his smile smug and leering. "Hello, Jill. Nice of you to drop by," he said smoothly. "Nice work, Barry. Take her weapons." She turned her startled gaze to him as he quickly plucked the shotgun from her hands, then reached around to unholster her Beretta, his face burning.
"Now get back up to Bl and wait for me by the exit. I'll be up in a few minutes." Barry stared at him. "But you said you just wanted to lock her up." Wesker shook his head. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt her, I promise. Now get going."
Jill looked at him, confusion and fear and anger playing across her face. "Barry?"I'm sorry, Jill."
He turned and walked around the corner, feeling defeated and ashamed – not to mention terrified for Jill. Wesker had promised, but Wesker's word meant nothing. He'd probably kill her as soon as he heard the elevator doors close, but what if I'm not in the elevator? Maybe I can still do something to keep her alive…. Barry hurried to the lift and opened the gates, then slammed them closed and pushed the operation switch, sending it back to B3 without a passenger. Moving silently, he edged back toward the corner, listening. "… can't say I'm all that surprised," Jill was saying. "But how did you get Barry to help you?"Wesker laughed. "Ol' Barry's got some trouble at home. I told him that Umbrella has a team watching his house, waiting to kill his precious family. He was only too happy to help."
Barry clenched his fists, his jaw tight. "You're a bastard, you know that?" Jill said. "Maybe. But I'm going to be a rich bastard when all this is over. Umbrella is paying me a lot of money to clean up their little problem, and to get rid of a few of you goddamn snooping S.T.A.R.S. in the process." "Why would Umbrella want to destroy the S.T.A.R.S.?" Jill asked. "Oh, not all of them. They've got big plans for some of us, at least those of us that want to make a profit. It's you sniveling do-gooders that they don't want, the red-white-and-blue, apple pie, all that happy bullshit. The way Redfield's been running around, mouthing off about conspiracies, you think Umbrel-
la didn't notice? It has to stop, here. This whole place
was rigged to blow up just in case of an accident
and the Tyrant virus escaping qualifies. Once you're
all dead and this facility's destroyed, no one will be
able to get to the truth."
Son-of-a-bitch was going to kill all of us.
"But enough about Umbrella. I had you brought
down here for a little experiment of my own. I want to
see how our most agile team member stands up
against the miracle of modern science. If you'll just
step through that door."
Barry flattened himself against the wall as Wesker stepped back, part of his shoulder coming into view. He put his hand on his Colt and drew it out slowly. "I can't believe that you're doing this," Jill said. "Selling out to protect a bunch of unethical corporate blackmailers." "Blackmailers? Oh, you mean Barry. Umbrella wouldn't bother with blackmail. They can afford to buy people just as easily. I made all that up to get him on board."
Barry slammed the butt of his Colt into Wesker's skull as hard as he could, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
Where?
A lunging, blade-like claw sliced the air in front of her face, swooping down from above. She stumbled back, staring up at the steel mesh of the ceiling and saw a dark shape skitter out of the shadows, hooking its way across the grate incredibly fast, curving claws at its hands and feet. She caught a glimpse of thick spines around its mutant, flattened face and then it turned and ran into the thrumming shadows of the power room. There was a door at the end of the walk and Jill sprinted toward it, heart racing, the pounding whine of the generators thundering in her ears. She was five feet from the door when she saw the moving shadow position itself in front of her. She raised the shotgun and leaned back -
–more of them! There were two of the creatures overhead, squat, terrible things with vicious, curving hooks instead of hands. One of them dropped down suddenly, hanging by clawed feet to swipe at her with its bladed arm. Jill fired and the creature screeched, the blast hitting it in the chest. It fell from the ceiling with a clatter, thick blood oozing out of the ragged wound. She turned back toward the entrance and ran, hearing the patter of claws against the mesh overhead. Another of the aberrant monkey-like things swung down in front of her, and Jill ducked, afraid to stop running. The thing's strange arm whistled past her ear, missing her head by less than an inch. The metal doors were in front of her. Jill crashed into them, slapping one handle down and stumbling back into the cold stillness of the corridor. The door closed on the furious, shrill cry of one of the mon– sters, rising high over the sounds of the working machines. She sagged against the door, gasping and saw Barry Burton standing midway down the chilled, silent hall. He hurried toward her, an expression of deep worry on his rugged, bearded face.
"Jill! Are you alright?" She pushed away from the door, surprised. "God, Barry, where have you been? I thought you'd gotten lost in the tunnels." Barry nodded grimly. "I did. And I ran into some trouble trying to get out."
She saw the splatters of blood on his clothing, the rips and tears in his shirt, and realized that he must have come across more of those walking green night– mares. He looked like he'd been through a war.
Speaking of…
Jill touched her shoulder, her ringers coming away bloody. It was painful but shallow; she'd survive.
"Barry, we've got to get out of here. I found some papers upstairs, proof of what's been going on. Enrico was right, Umbrella's behind all of this and one of the
S.T.A.R.S. knew about it. It's too dangerous to keep looking around, we should get those files and head back to the mansion, wait for the RPD." "But I think I found the main lab," Barry said. "Downstairs, there's an elevator at the end of the hall. There are computers and stuff. We can get into their files, really nail 'em."
He didn't seem excited by the find, but Jill barely noticed. With the information they could get from Umbrella's database: names, dates, research mate– rial…
We can find out everything, present the investigators with the whole, messy package… Jill nodded, grinning. "Lead the way."
The tunnels had been a cold, miserable maze, but the map had led them through quickly. Rebecca and Chris had reached the first basement level, both of them shivering and wet – and not a little freaked out by the dead creatures they'd passed along the way. The Umbrella scientists had been disgustingly cre– ative in their approach to making monsters. Chris rattled the door that supposedly led to the heliport, but it was solidly locked, an emergency sign next to it implying that it could only be opened by an alarm system. He'd hoped to send Rebecca out with the radio while he searched for the others. He looked down the narrow stairwell and sighed, turning to her. "I want you to stay here. If you stand by the elevator, you should be able to pick up Brad's signal from outside. Tell him where we are and what happened – and if I'm not back in twenty minutes, get back to the courtyard and wait there until help comes." Flustered, Rebecca shook her head. "But I want to go with you! I can take care of myself, and if you find the lab, you'll need me to tell you what you're looking at." "No. For all we know, Wesker already killed the other S.T.A.R.S. and is looking to finish the job. If we're the last ones, we can't risk both of us getting
ambushed. Somebody has to survive and tell people about Umbrella. I'm sorry, but it's the only way."
He smiled at her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"And I know you can take care of yourself. This isn't about your competence, okay? Twenty minutes. I just have to see if anyone else made it."
Rebecca opened her mouth as if to protest further and then closed it, nodding slowly. "Okay, I'll stay. Twenty minutes."
Chris turned and started down the ladder, hoping he could keep his promise to come back. The captain had successfully deceived them all, acting the part of concerned leader for weeks while the people in Rac-coon City had died and all along he'd known why. The man was a sociopath. It seemed that Umbrella had created more than one kind of monster. And it was time to find out how much damage he'd done.
Barry couldn't bring himself to look at Jill as they took the elevator down to B4. Wesker would be waiting for them at the bottom, and Jill would find out that he had been helping the captain all along. He'd killed three more of the violent, springing creatures down in the tunnels before making it to the lab only to run into Wesker, who had insisted that he lure Jill down to B4 and assist him in locking her up. The smiling bastard had reminded Barry of his family's situation and promised again that it was the last thing he'd have to do, that after Jill was safely locked away he'd call his people off -
–except he's said that every time. Find the crests
and you're free. Help me in the tunnels, you're free.
Betray your friend…
"Barry, are you okay?"
He turned to her as the elevator stopped, looking miserably into her concerned, thoughtful eyes.
"I've been worried about you ever since we got to the mansion," she said, laying a hand across his arm. "I even thought – well, never mind what I thought. Is something wrong?"
He pulled the gate open and raised the mesh outer door, an excuse to look away. "I… yeah, something's wrong," he said quietly. "But now's not the time. Let's just get this over with."
Jill frowned but nodded, still looking concerned.
"Okay. When this is over, we can talk."
You won't want to talk to me when this is over.
Barry stepped out into the short hallway and Jill followed, their boots clanking across a steel grate. The hall turned to the left just ahead and Barry slowed down on the pretense of checking his weapon, letting Jill get in front of him. They turned the corner and Jill froze, staring into the muzzle of Wesker's raised Beretta. He grinned at them, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, his smile smug and leering. "Hello, Jill. Nice of you to drop by," he said smoothly. "Nice work, Barry. Take her weapons." She turned her startled gaze to him as he quickly plucked the shotgun from her hands, then reached around to unholster her Beretta, his face burning.
"Now get back up to Bl and wait for me by the exit. I'll be up in a few minutes." Barry stared at him. "But you said you just wanted to lock her up." Wesker shook his head. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt her, I promise. Now get going."
Jill looked at him, confusion and fear and anger playing across her face. "Barry?"I'm sorry, Jill."
He turned and walked around the corner, feeling defeated and ashamed – not to mention terrified for Jill. Wesker had promised, but Wesker's word meant nothing. He'd probably kill her as soon as he heard the elevator doors close, but what if I'm not in the elevator? Maybe I can still do something to keep her alive…. Barry hurried to the lift and opened the gates, then slammed them closed and pushed the operation switch, sending it back to B3 without a passenger. Moving silently, he edged back toward the corner, listening. "… can't say I'm all that surprised," Jill was saying. "But how did you get Barry to help you?"Wesker laughed. "Ol' Barry's got some trouble at home. I told him that Umbrella has a team watching his house, waiting to kill his precious family. He was only too happy to help."
Barry clenched his fists, his jaw tight. "You're a bastard, you know that?" Jill said. "Maybe. But I'm going to be a rich bastard when all this is over. Umbrella is paying me a lot of money to clean up their little problem, and to get rid of a few of you goddamn snooping S.T.A.R.S. in the process." "Why would Umbrella want to destroy the S.T.A.R.S.?" Jill asked. "Oh, not all of them. They've got big plans for some of us, at least those of us that want to make a profit. It's you sniveling do-gooders that they don't want, the red-white-and-blue, apple pie, all that happy bullshit. The way Redfield's been running around, mouthing off about conspiracies, you think Umbrel-
la didn't notice? It has to stop, here. This whole place
was rigged to blow up just in case of an accident
and the Tyrant virus escaping qualifies. Once you're
all dead and this facility's destroyed, no one will be
able to get to the truth."
Son-of-a-bitch was going to kill all of us.
"But enough about Umbrella. I had you brought
down here for a little experiment of my own. I want to
see how our most agile team member stands up
against the miracle of modern science. If you'll just
step through that door."
Barry flattened himself against the wall as Wesker stepped back, part of his shoulder coming into view. He put his hand on his Colt and drew it out slowly. "I can't believe that you're doing this," Jill said. "Selling out to protect a bunch of unethical corporate blackmailers." "Blackmailers? Oh, you mean Barry. Umbrella wouldn't bother with blackmail. They can afford to buy people just as easily. I made all that up to get him on board."
Barry slammed the butt of his Colt into Wesker's skull as hard as he could, dropping him like a ton of bricks.
NINETEEN
JILL STARED IN ASTONISHMENT AS WESKER suddenly stopped talking and crumpled to the floor and Barry stepped into view, staring down at Wesker's body with a look of intense hatred, Colt in hand. She crouched down next to Wesker and pried the Beretta from his fingers, tucking it into her waistband. Barry turned to look at her, his eyes swimming with apology. "Jill, I'm so sorry. I never should have believed him."
Jill stared at him for a moment, thinking about his daughters. Moira was Becky McGee's age… "It's okay," she said finally. "You came back, that's what matters."
Barry handed her back her weapons, and they both gazed down at Wesker's sprawled form, still breathing but unconscious. He was out cold.
"I don't suppose you have any handcuffs on you?"
Barry asked. Jill shook her head. "Maybe we should check out the lab, there's bound to be some cable or cord we can use. Besides, I'm kind of curious about this 'miracle of modern science' he was talking about…"
She turned and found the switch that operated the hydraulic door, noting the biohazard symbol painted across the front. The door slid open and the two of them stepped inside.
Wow…
It was a huge, high-ceilinged chamber lined with monitoring consoles, cables snaking across the floor and connecting to a whole series of standing glass tubes. There were eight of the tubes lined up in the center of the room, each of them big enough to hold a grown man. They were all empty. Barry reached down and scooped up a handful of cable, digging into his pocket for a knife while Jill walked toward the back, gazing at the technical and medical equipment and stopped, staring, feeling her jaw drop. Against the back wall was a much larger tube, at least eight or nine feet tall, hooked up to its own computer console and the thing inside filled it, top to bottom. It was monstrous.
"Jill, I got the cable. I…"
Barry stopped next to her, his words faltering as he saw the abomination. Silently, they both walked to– ward it, unable to resist a closer look. It was tall, but proportionally correct, at least through the broad, muscular torso and long legs; those parts appeared human. One of its arms had been altered into a cluster of massive, dragging claws, hanging past its knees, while the other seemed ordi– nary, if overly large. There was a thick, bloody tumor protruding from where its heart would be, and Jill realized, staring at the bulbous mass that it was the thing's heart; it was pulsing slowly, expanding and contracting in slow, rhythmic beats. She stopped in front of the tube, awed by the abomination. She could see lines of scar tissue snak– ing across its limbs, surgical scars. It had no sexual organs; they'd been cut away. She looked up at its face and saw that parts of the flesh there had also been removed; the lips were gone, and it seemed to grin broadly at her through the sliced red tissue of its face, all of its teeth exposed. "Tyrant," Barry said quietly. Jill glanced over at him, saw him frowning down at the computer that was hooked to the tube by multiple cables. She looked back at the Tyrant, feeling nearly over– whelmed by pity and disgust. Whatever it was now, it had once been a man. Umbrella had turned him into a freakish horror. "We can't leave it like this," she said softly, and Barry nodded.
She joined him at the console, looking down at the myriad switches and buttons. There had to be a switch that would put an end to its life; it deserved that much. There was a set of six red switches in a row along the bottom and Barry flipped one of them down. Nothing seemed to happen. He glanced at her, and she nodded for him to continue. He used the side of his hand to flip all of them. There was a sudden, dull thump… They both whirled around, saw the Tyrant pull back its human hand and hit the glass again. Cracks webbed out from the impact, though the glass had to be several inches thick.
"Oh… SHIT!"
Barry grabbed her arm as the creature drew its bleeding knuckles back for another blow.
"Run!"
They ran, Jill wishing to God that they'd left it alone, panic welling up from deep inside of her. Barry slammed his hand down on the door control and it slid open as behind them, glass shattered. They stumbled through the door, terrified, Barry hitting the lock and saw that Wesker was gone.
Wesker stumbled toward the power room, his head pounding, his limbs feeling strangely distant and weak. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Goddamn Barry…
They'd taken his gun. He'd come to as they'd walked into the lab and reeled toward the elevator, cursing them both, cursing Umbrella for creating such a screwed up mess, cursing himself for not simply killing the S.T.A.R.S. when he could have.
It's not over. I'm still in control. This is my game…
The sample case was down in the lab, probably being destroyed right now by one of those idiots. Tyrant, too. That magnificent creature, powerless without the adrenaline injections, dead. They'd shoot him in his sleeping heart, he'd die without ever tasting battle… Wesker reached the door to the room and leaned against it, struggling to catch his breath. Blood drib-bled out of his ears and he shook his head, trying to clear it of the strange fog that had settled into his brain. He didn't have the tissue samples, but he could still complete his mission. It was important, very impor– tant that he complete his mission. It was about control, and control was his game.
… triggering system, watch out for monkeys… The Ma2s, he had to be careful. Wesker opened the door and pitched forward, the ground seeming too far away and then too close. The machines were hissing at him, whining and hissing in the hot, oily air. His hand found the railing and he pulled himself toward the back of the room, trying to hurry but finding that his legs weren't interested. A claw shot down from above and tore into his scalp, yanking away a clump of hair. He felt warm liquid trickle down the back of his neck and stumbled on, the pain in his head sharper now.
Took my gun, stupid, stupid assholes took my gun…
He reached the door and had just managed to get it open when something heavy landed on his back, knocking him into the next room. He fell on the cold metal floor and a terrible shriek sounded in his ear. Thick talons punctured the skin on his back and Wesker slapped at it, at the grinning, screaming thing that was trying to kill him. He hit the creature as hard as he could, shoving the heel of his hand into its throat. It leaped away, landing on the mesh wall and clambering back up to the ceiling. Wesker pulled himself up and stumbled on, fresh waves of pain and nausea washing over him. The air was too hot, the turbines loud and relentless in their spinning, throbbing frenzy, but he could see the door to the back now, the door that led to the completion of his mission.
All of the S.T.A.R.S., dead, blown into orbit while I escape, fly away a rich man…
He flung the door open and made his way toward the small, glowing screen in the back corner. It was quieter here, cooler. The massive machines that filled the chamber hummed softly at him, their purpose quite different than that of the ones outside. These were the machines that wanted to help him regain his control. The noise from the open door behind him seemed far away as he reached the glowing screen, his fingers numb as they touched the keyboard beneath. He found the keys he needed, the code spilling out across the monitor in soft green after only a few mistakes. A sexy, quiet voice informed him that the countdown would begin in thirty seconds. Dizzy, he tried to remember the setting for the timer. The system would trigger automatically in five minutes, but he had to reset it, give himself time to get reoriented and make his way to the outside.
Behind him, something screamed. Wesker whirled around, confused-and saw four of the mesh-monkeys running at him, lashing out with long, curved hands as they reached him. Terrible pain shot up through his legs and he fell, crashing to the hard steel floor.
This can't happen.
One of the creatures jumped onto his chest and suddenly Wesker couldn't breathe, couldn't even raise his weak arms to push it away. Another tore into his left leg, ripping away a thick chunk of flesh with its hooked claw. The third and fourth screamed in savage glee, dancing around him like dark, vicious children, lifting their claws as they pranced on squat legs. Somehow, there was blood in his eyes, and the world was spinning away, screams and hisses and incredible, searing heat blurring his vision, his mind.
Tyrant has come.
Wesker could feel it, could feel the presence of something vast and powerful touching him. Grinning through the pain, he searched for it through the red haze of his failing vision, wanting more than anything to see it slaughter his attackers in a glory of perfect motion, but he could only make out the immense shadow that seemed to flood over him, through him, could only imagine that the powerful, magnificent warrior was reaching down to lift him from his torment…
I control let me seeeee…
Darkness stole his hopes away, and Wesker thought no more.
"… S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team, Bravo, anybody -
–you can't answer, try to signal! I'm running out of fuel, do you read? This is Brad! Repeat-S. T.A.R.S. Alpha team…" Rebecca hit the button, talking fast. "Brad! There's a heliport at the Spencer estate, you have to get to the heliport! Brad, come in!"
There was a high, whining squeal and Rebecca heard what must have been the word "copy" – but the rest was lost. "I copy?" or, "Do you copy?" There was no way to know. Frustrated and worried, Rebecca held on to the radio tightly, hoping that he'd heard her. Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared into the silent room through some hidden speaker in the ceiling. Rebecca jumped, staring around the cold chamber helplessly. There was a buzzing click from inside the door that led to the heliport and she hurried over, grabbing the handle and pulling it open. It had unlocked. A cool, female voice began to speak, slowly and clearly over the jangling alarm.
"The triggering system has now been activated. All personnel must evacuate immediately or process deac-tivation. You have five minutes. The triggering system has now been activated…"
As the recorded message repeated, Rebecca stood in the open doorway and watched the open ladder shaft, her blood racing, waiting to see Chris emerge from the levels below. He'd only been gone a few minutes, but their time had just run out.
Jill stared at him for a moment, thinking about his daughters. Moira was Becky McGee's age… "It's okay," she said finally. "You came back, that's what matters."
Barry handed her back her weapons, and they both gazed down at Wesker's sprawled form, still breathing but unconscious. He was out cold.
"I don't suppose you have any handcuffs on you?"
Barry asked. Jill shook her head. "Maybe we should check out the lab, there's bound to be some cable or cord we can use. Besides, I'm kind of curious about this 'miracle of modern science' he was talking about…"
She turned and found the switch that operated the hydraulic door, noting the biohazard symbol painted across the front. The door slid open and the two of them stepped inside.
Wow…
It was a huge, high-ceilinged chamber lined with monitoring consoles, cables snaking across the floor and connecting to a whole series of standing glass tubes. There were eight of the tubes lined up in the center of the room, each of them big enough to hold a grown man. They were all empty. Barry reached down and scooped up a handful of cable, digging into his pocket for a knife while Jill walked toward the back, gazing at the technical and medical equipment and stopped, staring, feeling her jaw drop. Against the back wall was a much larger tube, at least eight or nine feet tall, hooked up to its own computer console and the thing inside filled it, top to bottom. It was monstrous.
"Jill, I got the cable. I…"
Barry stopped next to her, his words faltering as he saw the abomination. Silently, they both walked to– ward it, unable to resist a closer look. It was tall, but proportionally correct, at least through the broad, muscular torso and long legs; those parts appeared human. One of its arms had been altered into a cluster of massive, dragging claws, hanging past its knees, while the other seemed ordi– nary, if overly large. There was a thick, bloody tumor protruding from where its heart would be, and Jill realized, staring at the bulbous mass that it was the thing's heart; it was pulsing slowly, expanding and contracting in slow, rhythmic beats. She stopped in front of the tube, awed by the abomination. She could see lines of scar tissue snak– ing across its limbs, surgical scars. It had no sexual organs; they'd been cut away. She looked up at its face and saw that parts of the flesh there had also been removed; the lips were gone, and it seemed to grin broadly at her through the sliced red tissue of its face, all of its teeth exposed. "Tyrant," Barry said quietly. Jill glanced over at him, saw him frowning down at the computer that was hooked to the tube by multiple cables. She looked back at the Tyrant, feeling nearly over– whelmed by pity and disgust. Whatever it was now, it had once been a man. Umbrella had turned him into a freakish horror. "We can't leave it like this," she said softly, and Barry nodded.
She joined him at the console, looking down at the myriad switches and buttons. There had to be a switch that would put an end to its life; it deserved that much. There was a set of six red switches in a row along the bottom and Barry flipped one of them down. Nothing seemed to happen. He glanced at her, and she nodded for him to continue. He used the side of his hand to flip all of them. There was a sudden, dull thump… They both whirled around, saw the Tyrant pull back its human hand and hit the glass again. Cracks webbed out from the impact, though the glass had to be several inches thick.
"Oh… SHIT!"
Barry grabbed her arm as the creature drew its bleeding knuckles back for another blow.
"Run!"
They ran, Jill wishing to God that they'd left it alone, panic welling up from deep inside of her. Barry slammed his hand down on the door control and it slid open as behind them, glass shattered. They stumbled through the door, terrified, Barry hitting the lock and saw that Wesker was gone.
Wesker stumbled toward the power room, his head pounding, his limbs feeling strangely distant and weak. He felt like he was going to throw up.
Goddamn Barry…
They'd taken his gun. He'd come to as they'd walked into the lab and reeled toward the elevator, cursing them both, cursing Umbrella for creating such a screwed up mess, cursing himself for not simply killing the S.T.A.R.S. when he could have.
It's not over. I'm still in control. This is my game…
The sample case was down in the lab, probably being destroyed right now by one of those idiots. Tyrant, too. That magnificent creature, powerless without the adrenaline injections, dead. They'd shoot him in his sleeping heart, he'd die without ever tasting battle… Wesker reached the door to the room and leaned against it, struggling to catch his breath. Blood drib-bled out of his ears and he shook his head, trying to clear it of the strange fog that had settled into his brain. He didn't have the tissue samples, but he could still complete his mission. It was important, very impor– tant that he complete his mission. It was about control, and control was his game.
… triggering system, watch out for monkeys… The Ma2s, he had to be careful. Wesker opened the door and pitched forward, the ground seeming too far away and then too close. The machines were hissing at him, whining and hissing in the hot, oily air. His hand found the railing and he pulled himself toward the back of the room, trying to hurry but finding that his legs weren't interested. A claw shot down from above and tore into his scalp, yanking away a clump of hair. He felt warm liquid trickle down the back of his neck and stumbled on, the pain in his head sharper now.
Took my gun, stupid, stupid assholes took my gun…
He reached the door and had just managed to get it open when something heavy landed on his back, knocking him into the next room. He fell on the cold metal floor and a terrible shriek sounded in his ear. Thick talons punctured the skin on his back and Wesker slapped at it, at the grinning, screaming thing that was trying to kill him. He hit the creature as hard as he could, shoving the heel of his hand into its throat. It leaped away, landing on the mesh wall and clambering back up to the ceiling. Wesker pulled himself up and stumbled on, fresh waves of pain and nausea washing over him. The air was too hot, the turbines loud and relentless in their spinning, throbbing frenzy, but he could see the door to the back now, the door that led to the completion of his mission.
All of the S.T.A.R.S., dead, blown into orbit while I escape, fly away a rich man…
He flung the door open and made his way toward the small, glowing screen in the back corner. It was quieter here, cooler. The massive machines that filled the chamber hummed softly at him, their purpose quite different than that of the ones outside. These were the machines that wanted to help him regain his control. The noise from the open door behind him seemed far away as he reached the glowing screen, his fingers numb as they touched the keyboard beneath. He found the keys he needed, the code spilling out across the monitor in soft green after only a few mistakes. A sexy, quiet voice informed him that the countdown would begin in thirty seconds. Dizzy, he tried to remember the setting for the timer. The system would trigger automatically in five minutes, but he had to reset it, give himself time to get reoriented and make his way to the outside.
Behind him, something screamed. Wesker whirled around, confused-and saw four of the mesh-monkeys running at him, lashing out with long, curved hands as they reached him. Terrible pain shot up through his legs and he fell, crashing to the hard steel floor.
This can't happen.
One of the creatures jumped onto his chest and suddenly Wesker couldn't breathe, couldn't even raise his weak arms to push it away. Another tore into his left leg, ripping away a thick chunk of flesh with its hooked claw. The third and fourth screamed in savage glee, dancing around him like dark, vicious children, lifting their claws as they pranced on squat legs. Somehow, there was blood in his eyes, and the world was spinning away, screams and hisses and incredible, searing heat blurring his vision, his mind.
Tyrant has come.
Wesker could feel it, could feel the presence of something vast and powerful touching him. Grinning through the pain, he searched for it through the red haze of his failing vision, wanting more than anything to see it slaughter his attackers in a glory of perfect motion, but he could only make out the immense shadow that seemed to flood over him, through him, could only imagine that the powerful, magnificent warrior was reaching down to lift him from his torment…
I control let me seeeee…
Darkness stole his hopes away, and Wesker thought no more.
"… S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team, Bravo, anybody -
–you can't answer, try to signal! I'm running out of fuel, do you read? This is Brad! Repeat-S. T.A.R.S. Alpha team…" Rebecca hit the button, talking fast. "Brad! There's a heliport at the Spencer estate, you have to get to the heliport! Brad, come in!"
There was a high, whining squeal and Rebecca heard what must have been the word "copy" – but the rest was lost. "I copy?" or, "Do you copy?" There was no way to know. Frustrated and worried, Rebecca held on to the radio tightly, hoping that he'd heard her. Suddenly, a shrill alarm blared into the silent room through some hidden speaker in the ceiling. Rebecca jumped, staring around the cold chamber helplessly. There was a buzzing click from inside the door that led to the heliport and she hurried over, grabbing the handle and pulling it open. It had unlocked. A cool, female voice began to speak, slowly and clearly over the jangling alarm.
"The triggering system has now been activated. All personnel must evacuate immediately or process deac-tivation. You have five minutes. The triggering system has now been activated…"
As the recorded message repeated, Rebecca stood in the open doorway and watched the open ladder shaft, her blood racing, waiting to see Chris emerge from the levels below. He'd only been gone a few minutes, but their time had just run out.
TWENTY
JILL AND BARRY RAN FROM THE ELEVATOR back toward the main hall of B3, the cool voice informing them that they had four and a half minutes. They hit the open corridor at a dead run, sprinting around the corner and saw Chris Redfield halfway up the metal stairs. "Chris!" Jill shouted. He spun around, his face lighting up as he saw them dashing toward him. "Hurry!" he shouted. "There's a heliport on Bl!" Thank God!
Chris waited until they reached the base of the stairs and then ran ahead, rushing around the walk-way and holding open the door that led to the ladder. Jill and Barry made it to the top and sped through, the computer telling them that they had four minutes, fifteen seconds to get away. Barry went up the ladder first and Jill followed, Chris right behind. They piled out into Bl. Jill saw that Rebecca Chambers was standing at the emergen– cy exit, her youthful face tight with anxiety. Chris hustled her through the door and the four of them ran through a winding concrete hall, Jill praying silently that they'd have time to clear the estate.
I hope you burn here, Wesker.
There was a large elevator at the end of the corridor and Barry slammed the gate open, holding it as they rushed inside. He jumped in after them. They had four minutes even. The elevator seemed to crawl upward and Jill looked at her watch, heart pounding as the seconds ticked past.
Not gonna make it, we'll never make it.
The lift hummed to a stop and Chris yanked the gate open, the cool air of early morning sweeping over them and the sweet, wondrous sound of a helicop– ter overhead, circling. "He heard me!" Rebecca shouted, and Jill grinned, feeling a sudden wave of affection for the rookie. The helicopter port was huge, the wide, flat space surrounded by high walls, a circle of yellow paint on the asphalt showing Brad where to set down. Barry and Chris both waved their arms frantically, signaling the pilot to hurry as Jill looked at her watch again. A little over three and a half minutes remained. More than enough time… CRASH! Jill whirled around, saw chunks of concrete and tar fly into the air and rain down over the northwest corner of the landing pad. A giant claw stretched up from the hole, fell across the jagged lip and the pale, hulking Tyrant leaped out onto the heliport, rose smoothly from its agile crouch… and started toward them.
What the hell is that?
It had to be eight feet tall, parts of its giant body mutilated and deformed, its grinning face focusing on them even as it stood up. It moved toward them at a slow walk, the massive claw of its left arm flexing.
No time, Brad can't land.
Chris targeted the dark, tumorous thing on its chest and fired, pulling the trigger five times in rapid succession, three of the rounds finding their mark. The other two were within an inch of the pulsing Redness… and the creature didn't even slow down. "Scatter!" Barry yelled. The S.T.A.R.S. split, Jill pulling Rebecca to the farthest corner from the towering monster, Chris sprinting toward the southern wall. Barry stood his ground, pointing his Colt at the approaching beast. Three.357 rounds slammed into its belly, the thundering shots echoing against the high concrete walls. The creature suddenly sped up, running toward Barry, drawing its giant claw back and as Barry dove out of the way, the thing swept past him in a running crouch, bringing its claw up as if throwing a ball underhand. Its talons gouged the asphalt, ripping through it as though it was no more solid than water. As soon as the monster was past, it stopped run– ning, turning almost casually back to watch Barry scramble to his feet and fire again. The bullet took out a fleshy chunk of its right shoulder. Thick blood coursed down its wide chest and joined the dripping, open mass of its stomach. Overhead, the Alpha 'copter still circled, unable to Land and there was still no sign that the immense creature felt the injuries. It started its run again, dropping its terrible, inhuman hand down as it went for Barry just as his revolver clicked on empty. Barry sprinted away, but the charging monster veered with him and its sweeping claw glanced against his side, tumbling him to the ground.
Barry!
Chris raced toward the creature, firing into its back as it bent down over the fallen Alpha. Barry was scrambling backwards, his vest shredded, his eyes wide with terror and it must have felt the sting of the bullets because it turned, fixing its emotionless stare on Chris. Barry staggered to his feet and limped quickly away.
We don't have any time!
Chris emptied the clip, the last several rounds hitting it in the face. Pieces of tooth flew from the creature's lipless mouth, spattering to the asphalt in a rain of white and red. The creature didn't seem to notice as it started to run toward him at incredible speed. Jill and Rebecca were both firing, shouting, trying to turn its attention away from Chris but it was already fixated, pounding toward him and drawing its claw back -wait for it. He dove to the side at the last possible second and the monster went flying past, its claw mulching the asphalt where he'd just been standing. Chris ran, the horrible awareness dawning on him that the seconds were slipping past and that they couldn't kill it in time. Barry felt blood seeping from his thigh, the top several layers of his skin sliced neatly away by the Tyrant's brutal swipe. The pain was bearable; the knowledge that they were going to die wasn't.
We 'II blow up if we don't get chopped to pieces first.
Tyrant turned its attention to Jill and Rebecca, both of them firing again at the seemingly invulnerable monster. It started its smooth, easy walk toward them, still indifferent to the bloody holes in its body. Shotgun blasts hit it in the legs and chest, nine millimeter bullets speckled its pasty flesh, and it didn't falter, kept on walking. Wind whipped down over Barry as the roar of the helicopter's blades suddenly got louder. He heard a screaming shout come from above.
"Incoming!"
Barry stared up at the 'copter, hovering only twenty feet from the ground and saw
a heavy black object fly out of the open door on the side, hitting the tar with an audible thud. Chris was closest. He ran for it. The Tyrant had almost reached Jill and Rebecca. The two of them split, each headed in a different direction and the creature turned toward Jill without hesitating, tracking her with its strange, fixed gaze. "Jill, this way!" Chris screamed. Barry spun and saw that Chris had the bulky rocket launcher propped on his shoulder.
Yes!
Jill veered toward Chris, the Tyrant close behind.
"Clear!"
She leaped to one side and rolled as Chris fired, the whoosh of the rocket-propelled grenade almost lost to the thundering beat of the 'copter's rotors. The explosion wasn't. The grenade hit the Tyrant square in the chest and in a burst of incendiary light and deafening sound, it blew the monster into a million smoking pieces. Even as tattered shreds of flesh and bone hailed down over them, Brad lowered the 'copter back toward the ground and the four S.T.A.R.S. ran for it. The rails hadn't touched yet as Jill dove into the open cabin, Chris and Rebecca and Barry all throwing themselves in after her. "Go, Brad, now!" Jill screamed. The bird lifted into the air and sped away.
Chris waited until they reached the base of the stairs and then ran ahead, rushing around the walk-way and holding open the door that led to the ladder. Jill and Barry made it to the top and sped through, the computer telling them that they had four minutes, fifteen seconds to get away. Barry went up the ladder first and Jill followed, Chris right behind. They piled out into Bl. Jill saw that Rebecca Chambers was standing at the emergen– cy exit, her youthful face tight with anxiety. Chris hustled her through the door and the four of them ran through a winding concrete hall, Jill praying silently that they'd have time to clear the estate.
I hope you burn here, Wesker.
There was a large elevator at the end of the corridor and Barry slammed the gate open, holding it as they rushed inside. He jumped in after them. They had four minutes even. The elevator seemed to crawl upward and Jill looked at her watch, heart pounding as the seconds ticked past.
Not gonna make it, we'll never make it.
The lift hummed to a stop and Chris yanked the gate open, the cool air of early morning sweeping over them and the sweet, wondrous sound of a helicop– ter overhead, circling. "He heard me!" Rebecca shouted, and Jill grinned, feeling a sudden wave of affection for the rookie. The helicopter port was huge, the wide, flat space surrounded by high walls, a circle of yellow paint on the asphalt showing Brad where to set down. Barry and Chris both waved their arms frantically, signaling the pilot to hurry as Jill looked at her watch again. A little over three and a half minutes remained. More than enough time… CRASH! Jill whirled around, saw chunks of concrete and tar fly into the air and rain down over the northwest corner of the landing pad. A giant claw stretched up from the hole, fell across the jagged lip and the pale, hulking Tyrant leaped out onto the heliport, rose smoothly from its agile crouch… and started toward them.
What the hell is that?
It had to be eight feet tall, parts of its giant body mutilated and deformed, its grinning face focusing on them even as it stood up. It moved toward them at a slow walk, the massive claw of its left arm flexing.
No time, Brad can't land.
Chris targeted the dark, tumorous thing on its chest and fired, pulling the trigger five times in rapid succession, three of the rounds finding their mark. The other two were within an inch of the pulsing Redness… and the creature didn't even slow down. "Scatter!" Barry yelled. The S.T.A.R.S. split, Jill pulling Rebecca to the farthest corner from the towering monster, Chris sprinting toward the southern wall. Barry stood his ground, pointing his Colt at the approaching beast. Three.357 rounds slammed into its belly, the thundering shots echoing against the high concrete walls. The creature suddenly sped up, running toward Barry, drawing its giant claw back and as Barry dove out of the way, the thing swept past him in a running crouch, bringing its claw up as if throwing a ball underhand. Its talons gouged the asphalt, ripping through it as though it was no more solid than water. As soon as the monster was past, it stopped run– ning, turning almost casually back to watch Barry scramble to his feet and fire again. The bullet took out a fleshy chunk of its right shoulder. Thick blood coursed down its wide chest and joined the dripping, open mass of its stomach. Overhead, the Alpha 'copter still circled, unable to Land and there was still no sign that the immense creature felt the injuries. It started its run again, dropping its terrible, inhuman hand down as it went for Barry just as his revolver clicked on empty. Barry sprinted away, but the charging monster veered with him and its sweeping claw glanced against his side, tumbling him to the ground.
Barry!
Chris raced toward the creature, firing into its back as it bent down over the fallen Alpha. Barry was scrambling backwards, his vest shredded, his eyes wide with terror and it must have felt the sting of the bullets because it turned, fixing its emotionless stare on Chris. Barry staggered to his feet and limped quickly away.
We don't have any time!
Chris emptied the clip, the last several rounds hitting it in the face. Pieces of tooth flew from the creature's lipless mouth, spattering to the asphalt in a rain of white and red. The creature didn't seem to notice as it started to run toward him at incredible speed. Jill and Rebecca were both firing, shouting, trying to turn its attention away from Chris but it was already fixated, pounding toward him and drawing its claw back -wait for it. He dove to the side at the last possible second and the monster went flying past, its claw mulching the asphalt where he'd just been standing. Chris ran, the horrible awareness dawning on him that the seconds were slipping past and that they couldn't kill it in time. Barry felt blood seeping from his thigh, the top several layers of his skin sliced neatly away by the Tyrant's brutal swipe. The pain was bearable; the knowledge that they were going to die wasn't.
We 'II blow up if we don't get chopped to pieces first.
Tyrant turned its attention to Jill and Rebecca, both of them firing again at the seemingly invulnerable monster. It started its smooth, easy walk toward them, still indifferent to the bloody holes in its body. Shotgun blasts hit it in the legs and chest, nine millimeter bullets speckled its pasty flesh, and it didn't falter, kept on walking. Wind whipped down over Barry as the roar of the helicopter's blades suddenly got louder. He heard a screaming shout come from above.
"Incoming!"
Barry stared up at the 'copter, hovering only twenty feet from the ground and saw
a heavy black object fly out of the open door on the side, hitting the tar with an audible thud. Chris was closest. He ran for it. The Tyrant had almost reached Jill and Rebecca. The two of them split, each headed in a different direction and the creature turned toward Jill without hesitating, tracking her with its strange, fixed gaze. "Jill, this way!" Chris screamed. Barry spun and saw that Chris had the bulky rocket launcher propped on his shoulder.
Yes!
Jill veered toward Chris, the Tyrant close behind.
"Clear!"
She leaped to one side and rolled as Chris fired, the whoosh of the rocket-propelled grenade almost lost to the thundering beat of the 'copter's rotors. The explosion wasn't. The grenade hit the Tyrant square in the chest and in a burst of incendiary light and deafening sound, it blew the monster into a million smoking pieces. Even as tattered shreds of flesh and bone hailed down over them, Brad lowered the 'copter back toward the ground and the four S.T.A.R.S. ran for it. The rails hadn't touched yet as Jill dove into the open cabin, Chris and Rebecca and Barry all throwing themselves in after her. "Go, Brad, now!" Jill screamed. The bird lifted into the air and sped away.
TWENTY-ONE
THE CALM, FEMALE VOICE FELL ONLY ON inhuman ears.
"You have five seconds, three, two, one. System activation now."
A circuit that ran the length and width of the estate connected. With an earth-shaking thunderclap of motion and sound, the Spencer estate exploded. Devices went off simultaneously in the basement of the mansion, beneath the reservoir, behind a plain, uninterest-ing fireplace in the guardhouse and in the third level of the basement laboratories. Marble walls tumbled down over the disintegrating floors of the fine old mansion. Rock collapsed and concrete blew into a fine blackened dust. Massive fireballs rose up into the early morning sky and could be seen from miles away in their few brief seconds of brilliant life. As the incredible peal of booming sound rolled across the forest and died away, the wreckage started to burn.
"You have five seconds, three, two, one. System activation now."
A circuit that ran the length and width of the estate connected. With an earth-shaking thunderclap of motion and sound, the Spencer estate exploded. Devices went off simultaneously in the basement of the mansion, beneath the reservoir, behind a plain, uninterest-ing fireplace in the guardhouse and in the third level of the basement laboratories. Marble walls tumbled down over the disintegrating floors of the fine old mansion. Rock collapsed and concrete blew into a fine blackened dust. Massive fireballs rose up into the early morning sky and could be seen from miles away in their few brief seconds of brilliant life. As the incredible peal of booming sound rolled across the forest and died away, the wreckage started to burn.
EPILOGUE
THE FOUR OF THEM WERE QUIET AS BRAD piloted the 'copter back toward the city, and though he had a million questions, something about their silence didn't invite conversation. Chris and Jill were both staring out the hatch window at the spreading fire that had been the estate, their expressions grim. Barry was slumped against the cabin wall, looking down at his hands like he'd never seen them before. The new girl was quietly moving among them, treat– ing their wounds without saying a word. Brad kept his mouth shut, still feeling crappy about taking off earlier. He'd been through hell since then, flying around in circles and watching the fuel gauge slowly drop. It had been a total nightmare, and he had to take a piss like nobody's business.
And then that monster…
He shuddered. Whatever it had been, he was glad it was dead. It had taken all of his nerve not to fly away the second he'd laid eyes on it and as far as he was concerned, he deserved a little consideration for man– aging to kick the launcher out the door. He glanced back at the silent foursome, wondering if he should tell them about the weird call he'd gotten over the radio. Right after the rookie had screamed something about a heliport through the static, a clear, solid signal had come in, a male voice calmly giving him the exact coordinates. The guy had been listening in, which was weird, but the fact that he knew the location well enough to give Brad directions was downright spooky. He frowned, trying to remember the mystery man's name. Thad? Terrence? Trent. That's it, he said his name was Trent. Brad decided that it would keep for another day. For now, he just wanted to go home.
And then that monster…
He shuddered. Whatever it had been, he was glad it was dead. It had taken all of his nerve not to fly away the second he'd laid eyes on it and as far as he was concerned, he deserved a little consideration for man– aging to kick the launcher out the door. He glanced back at the silent foursome, wondering if he should tell them about the weird call he'd gotten over the radio. Right after the rookie had screamed something about a heliport through the static, a clear, solid signal had come in, a male voice calmly giving him the exact coordinates. The guy had been listening in, which was weird, but the fact that he knew the location well enough to give Brad directions was downright spooky. He frowned, trying to remember the mystery man's name. Thad? Terrence? Trent. That's it, he said his name was Trent. Brad decided that it would keep for another day. For now, he just wanted to go home.