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This is for you, William…
The thought was bittersweet… for some time, they hadn't enjoyed their relationship as husband and wife. William was so brilliant, so devoted to the work, that the pleasures of synthesis and development had taken the place of the perks of married life. She had come to recognize his genius, to learn the joy of supporting him without the nuisance of relationship struggles, but now, her finger resting on the end to it all, she found herself suddenly wishing very much that there had been more between them in the last few years, more than her adoration for his incredible gifts, his appreciation of her assistance…
This is our last kiss, my love. This is my contribution to the work, my final loving act for what we shared.
Yes, that was right, that was the feeling. Annette pressed the key, her heart singing, and saw the locked code flash across the monitor in glowing green. "I respectfully tender my resignation," she said softly, and started to laugh.
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
The thought was bittersweet… for some time, they hadn't enjoyed their relationship as husband and wife. William was so brilliant, so devoted to the work, that the pleasures of synthesis and development had taken the place of the perks of married life. She had come to recognize his genius, to learn the joy of supporting him without the nuisance of relationship struggles, but now, her finger resting on the end to it all, she found herself suddenly wishing very much that there had been more between them in the last few years, more than her adoration for his incredible gifts, his appreciation of her assistance…
This is our last kiss, my love. This is my contribution to the work, my final loving act for what we shared.
Yes, that was right, that was the feeling. Annette pressed the key, her heart singing, and saw the locked code flash across the monitor in glowing green. "I respectfully tender my resignation," she said softly, and started to laugh.
TWENTY-FIVE
The dark slid past the moving platform, metal darkness bathed in murky orange light, and whatever had punched through the wall of the transport was gone. Leon had edged his way around the enclosed room twice, and seen nothing at all, heard nothing but the smooth hum of the working motors. When the creature finally howled from the shadows atop the roof, and Leon snapped the shotgun up, what he saw actually made him freeze. In the second it took him to really see it, his vengeful fury blew away like so much dust, replaced by an absolute bone-chilling awe.
Holy shit…
The thing was still shrieking, its head thrown back, the brutal, gurgling scream like the voice of hell in the moving dark. It had been a man, once – arms and legs, shreds of clothing still hanging from its hulking body – but everything human about it had changed, was still changing as it bellowed its rage into the cold black, and Leon could only stare. Its body was swollen and rippling with strange muscles, the bare chest puffed and bloated with its endless scream. Its right arm was six inches longer than the left, the stained bone claws jutting from the pulsing hand. And the bulbous moving tumor in its right bicep looked like nothing so much as an eyeball the size of a dinner plate, jerking wetly from side to side as if searching…… and the scream was changing, too, getting deep– er, rougher, the shaggy face falling forward and melting into its chest. Like hot wax, like a movie effect, the creature's head flowed into its upper body, disappearing smoothly into the inflamed and greedy skin…… and at the same time, another face was forming, growing, rising up from the back of its neck with a horrible snapping sound, like fingers being broken. Slitted eyes cracked open, a bony red hole of a mouth forming, taking up the furious cry with a new voice…… and Leon squeezed the trigger in denial, a denial of the monster's unholy existence. Boom! The shot hit its chest, and a thick, purplish blood sprayed out, cutting off the creature's scream, but that was all it did. The monster's new face angled toward Leon, the domed head tilting…… and it hopped down onto the platform, landing in a half-crouch on legs as big around as Leon's chest. It took one jumping, crooked step forward and was close enough for Leon to smell the strange, chemical musk that poured from its glistening skin and see that the wound on its chest had stopped bleeding, that the strange flesh was eating the tiny holes. The creature raised its mighty claw and Leon stumbled backwards, pumping another round and firing as the talons came down… shhink!… and sparks flew up from the metal rail as the shot blasted into the creature's stomach, more purplish fluid spattering from its body. The almost point-blank range of the heavy round barely fazed the towering monster. It took another step, and Leon backed away, pumping another roun…… and he tripped on the steps that led up to the transport room, tripped and fell on his ass, the round going high over the creature's bullet-shaped head. One more step and it would be on him -
– I'm dead -
–except it didn't take the step. Instead, it turned toward the railing, its bizarre head tilting, the pits of its rudimentary nostrils flaring…… and silently, almost gracefully, it leapt over the edge of the platform, out into the passing darkness. For a moment, Leon didn't move. He couldn't, he was too busy trying to understand that the monster hadn't killed him. It had smelled or sensed some– thing, it had broken off the attack that it most certainly would have won and had jumped off the moving transport.
I'm not dead. It's gone, and I'm not dead.
Why, he didn't know, and couldn't begin to guess. Accepting that he was alive was enough and a short time later, maybe no more than a few seconds, his knotted thoughts and senses told him that the trans– port was slowing down, that the shaft was getting lighter, the blackness washing to gray. Leon crawled to his feet and went to check on Ada. Sherry had heard the monster from far away, from somewhere deep in the giant hole, and felt even more scared than she had when the giant – Mr. X, Claire called him – had come into the train station. Claire had said it probably wasn't even the monster, that it was most likely some machine problem, but Sherry wasn't convinced. The sound was so distant and strange that it could have been something else…
… but what if it isn't? What if Claire's wrong?
They stood outside a warehouse in the chill of the dark, stood over the big hole in the ground and waited for the mechanical noises to stop. The almost-full moon was low in the sky, and Sherry could tell by the deep blue light of the horizon that it was very early in the morning; she didn't feel tired, though. She felt scared and anxious, and even with Claire holding her hand she didn't want to go down into the black hole where the monster could be. After what seemed like a long time, the humming noise of the machinery stopped, and Claire stepped back from the hole – “The transport shaft,” she said and turned back toward the warehouse.
"Let's go see if we can recall the… Sherry?"
Sherry hadn't moved to follow her. She stared down into the hole, holding her charm and wishing that she was brave like Claire, but she wasn't, she knew she wasn't, and she didn't want to go down into the dark.
I can't, I can't go down there, I'm NOT like Claire and I don't care if that's where my mom went, I don't care at all…
Sherry felt warmth across her back and looked up, startled, to see that Claire had taken off her vest and was slipping it over her shoulders. "I want you to have this," Claire said, and in spite of her fear, Sherry felt a sudden rush of confused happiness.
"But… why? It's yours, and you'll get cold…"
Claire ignored her for a minute, helping her put it on. It was too big for her and it had some dirt on it, but it was the coolest thing Sherry thought she'd ever worn.
For me. She wants me to have it.
Claire knelt in front of her, now wearing only a thin black T-shirt and shorts. She looked at her very seriously, pulling the vest closed over Sherry's chest.
"I want you to have it because I can tell that you're scared," she said firmly, "and I've had it for a long time, and when I wear it, I feel like I can kick ass. Like nothing can stop me. My brother has a leather jacket with the same design on the back, and he kicks ass, but he got the idea from me."
She smiled suddenly, a tired, warm smile that made Sherry forget about the monster, just for a minute.
"So now it's yours, and every time you wear it, I want you to remember that I think you are the best twelve-year-old who ever walked."
Sherry smiled back, hugging the faded pink denim to her body. "And it's a bribe, huh?" Claire nodded without hesitation. "Yes. And it's a bribe. So what do you say?"
Sighing, Sherry reached for her hand, and they walked back into the warehouse to find the controls for the elevator.
Ada woke up as Leon set her gently on a creaking cot, woke up with a pounding headache and a pain in her side. Her first thought was that she'd been shot, but as she opened her eyes, and Leon's worried, pale face swam into focus, she remembered.
He was going to kiss me, I think… and then… "What happened?"
Leon reached down and brushed her hair off of her forehead, smiling a little. "A monster happened. The same one that got Bertolucci, I think. It put its hand through the wall of the transport and knocked you over. You hit your head, after it clawed you." Virus!
Ada struggled to sit up, to look at the wound, but the headache knocked her back. She reached up and carefully touched the throbbing spot just over her left temple, wincing at the feel of the sticky lump.
"Hey, just stay put," Leon said. "The wound isn't too bad, but you took a pretty serious knock…"
Ada closed her eyes, trying to collect herself. If she'd been infected, there wasn't anything she could do about it now – and really, what an irony that would be – if it was Birkin who'd stabbed her and he was still hot, she'd end up collecting a G-Virus sample in an extremely personal way.
Deep breath, keep it together. You're not in the transport anymore, what does that tell you? "Where are we?" she asked, opening her eyes. Leon shook his head. "I'm not sure. Like you said, it's an underground lab or factory of some kind. The transport is just outside. I brought you to the closest room."
Ada turned her aching head enough to see the small windows, over a cluttered counter, looking out into the transport bay.
Gotta be fourth level, where the lift stops…
The main synthesis lab was on the fifth level. Leon was staring down at her so sincerely, his bright blue gaze so achingly tender, that for just a few seconds, Ada thought about aborting the mission. They could go down to the escape tunnel together, they could hop on the train and get out of the city. They could run away, run far, far away…
… and then what? Call Trent and tell him that you'll offer a refund? Sure. Then maybe you can meet Leon's parents, get a ring, buy a little white house with a picket fence, have a couple of kids… you could take up crochet, and rub his feet when he comes home from a hard day busting drunks and making traffic stops. Happily ever after…
Ada closed her eyes again, unable to look at him as she spoke.
"My head hurts pretty bad, Leon, and the tunnel I saw, on that map – I don't know where it is, ex-actly." "I'll find it," he said softly. "I'll find it, and then I'll come back for you. Don't worry about anything, okay?" "Be careful," she whispered, and then felt his soft lips graze her forehead, heard him stand up and move toward the door. "Just stay here, I'll be back soon," he said, and the door opened and closed, and she was alone.
He'll be okay. He'll get lost trying to find the tunnel, he'll come back, he'll see that I'm gone and take the lift back to the surface… I can find the sample and escape, and it will be over.
Ada counted a minute and then sat up slowly, grimacing at the pounding in her skull. A bad knock indeed, but not a debilitating one; she could function. There was a noise outside, and Ada stood up, walking to one of the small windows. She knew the sound even before she looked, and felt her heart sink a little; the transport was heading up, probably recalled to the factory by an Umbrella team…
… which means I don't have a lot of time. And if they find him…
No, Leon would be okay. He was a fighter, he had the sense to run from danger, he was strong and decent – and he didn't need to have someone like her in his life. She'd been crazy to consider it, even for a moment. It was time to wrap things up, to do what she'd come to do, to remember who she was – a freelance agent, a woman with no qualms about stealing or killing to complete a job, a cool and efficient thief who could take pride in a career with no misses. Ada Wong always walked away with the goods, and it would take more than a few hours with one blue-eyed cop to make her forget it. Ada pulled the key cards and master from her pouch and opened the door, telling herself that she was doing the right thing and hopeful that in time she'd come to believe it.
Holy shit…
The thing was still shrieking, its head thrown back, the brutal, gurgling scream like the voice of hell in the moving dark. It had been a man, once – arms and legs, shreds of clothing still hanging from its hulking body – but everything human about it had changed, was still changing as it bellowed its rage into the cold black, and Leon could only stare. Its body was swollen and rippling with strange muscles, the bare chest puffed and bloated with its endless scream. Its right arm was six inches longer than the left, the stained bone claws jutting from the pulsing hand. And the bulbous moving tumor in its right bicep looked like nothing so much as an eyeball the size of a dinner plate, jerking wetly from side to side as if searching…… and the scream was changing, too, getting deep– er, rougher, the shaggy face falling forward and melting into its chest. Like hot wax, like a movie effect, the creature's head flowed into its upper body, disappearing smoothly into the inflamed and greedy skin…… and at the same time, another face was forming, growing, rising up from the back of its neck with a horrible snapping sound, like fingers being broken. Slitted eyes cracked open, a bony red hole of a mouth forming, taking up the furious cry with a new voice…… and Leon squeezed the trigger in denial, a denial of the monster's unholy existence. Boom! The shot hit its chest, and a thick, purplish blood sprayed out, cutting off the creature's scream, but that was all it did. The monster's new face angled toward Leon, the domed head tilting…… and it hopped down onto the platform, landing in a half-crouch on legs as big around as Leon's chest. It took one jumping, crooked step forward and was close enough for Leon to smell the strange, chemical musk that poured from its glistening skin and see that the wound on its chest had stopped bleeding, that the strange flesh was eating the tiny holes. The creature raised its mighty claw and Leon stumbled backwards, pumping another round and firing as the talons came down… shhink!… and sparks flew up from the metal rail as the shot blasted into the creature's stomach, more purplish fluid spattering from its body. The almost point-blank range of the heavy round barely fazed the towering monster. It took another step, and Leon backed away, pumping another roun…… and he tripped on the steps that led up to the transport room, tripped and fell on his ass, the round going high over the creature's bullet-shaped head. One more step and it would be on him -
– I'm dead -
–except it didn't take the step. Instead, it turned toward the railing, its bizarre head tilting, the pits of its rudimentary nostrils flaring…… and silently, almost gracefully, it leapt over the edge of the platform, out into the passing darkness. For a moment, Leon didn't move. He couldn't, he was too busy trying to understand that the monster hadn't killed him. It had smelled or sensed some– thing, it had broken off the attack that it most certainly would have won and had jumped off the moving transport.
I'm not dead. It's gone, and I'm not dead.
Why, he didn't know, and couldn't begin to guess. Accepting that he was alive was enough and a short time later, maybe no more than a few seconds, his knotted thoughts and senses told him that the trans– port was slowing down, that the shaft was getting lighter, the blackness washing to gray. Leon crawled to his feet and went to check on Ada. Sherry had heard the monster from far away, from somewhere deep in the giant hole, and felt even more scared than she had when the giant – Mr. X, Claire called him – had come into the train station. Claire had said it probably wasn't even the monster, that it was most likely some machine problem, but Sherry wasn't convinced. The sound was so distant and strange that it could have been something else…
… but what if it isn't? What if Claire's wrong?
They stood outside a warehouse in the chill of the dark, stood over the big hole in the ground and waited for the mechanical noises to stop. The almost-full moon was low in the sky, and Sherry could tell by the deep blue light of the horizon that it was very early in the morning; she didn't feel tired, though. She felt scared and anxious, and even with Claire holding her hand she didn't want to go down into the black hole where the monster could be. After what seemed like a long time, the humming noise of the machinery stopped, and Claire stepped back from the hole – “The transport shaft,” she said and turned back toward the warehouse.
"Let's go see if we can recall the… Sherry?"
Sherry hadn't moved to follow her. She stared down into the hole, holding her charm and wishing that she was brave like Claire, but she wasn't, she knew she wasn't, and she didn't want to go down into the dark.
I can't, I can't go down there, I'm NOT like Claire and I don't care if that's where my mom went, I don't care at all…
Sherry felt warmth across her back and looked up, startled, to see that Claire had taken off her vest and was slipping it over her shoulders. "I want you to have this," Claire said, and in spite of her fear, Sherry felt a sudden rush of confused happiness.
"But… why? It's yours, and you'll get cold…"
Claire ignored her for a minute, helping her put it on. It was too big for her and it had some dirt on it, but it was the coolest thing Sherry thought she'd ever worn.
For me. She wants me to have it.
Claire knelt in front of her, now wearing only a thin black T-shirt and shorts. She looked at her very seriously, pulling the vest closed over Sherry's chest.
"I want you to have it because I can tell that you're scared," she said firmly, "and I've had it for a long time, and when I wear it, I feel like I can kick ass. Like nothing can stop me. My brother has a leather jacket with the same design on the back, and he kicks ass, but he got the idea from me."
She smiled suddenly, a tired, warm smile that made Sherry forget about the monster, just for a minute.
"So now it's yours, and every time you wear it, I want you to remember that I think you are the best twelve-year-old who ever walked."
Sherry smiled back, hugging the faded pink denim to her body. "And it's a bribe, huh?" Claire nodded without hesitation. "Yes. And it's a bribe. So what do you say?"
Sighing, Sherry reached for her hand, and they walked back into the warehouse to find the controls for the elevator.
Ada woke up as Leon set her gently on a creaking cot, woke up with a pounding headache and a pain in her side. Her first thought was that she'd been shot, but as she opened her eyes, and Leon's worried, pale face swam into focus, she remembered.
He was going to kiss me, I think… and then… "What happened?"
Leon reached down and brushed her hair off of her forehead, smiling a little. "A monster happened. The same one that got Bertolucci, I think. It put its hand through the wall of the transport and knocked you over. You hit your head, after it clawed you." Virus!
Ada struggled to sit up, to look at the wound, but the headache knocked her back. She reached up and carefully touched the throbbing spot just over her left temple, wincing at the feel of the sticky lump.
"Hey, just stay put," Leon said. "The wound isn't too bad, but you took a pretty serious knock…"
Ada closed her eyes, trying to collect herself. If she'd been infected, there wasn't anything she could do about it now – and really, what an irony that would be – if it was Birkin who'd stabbed her and he was still hot, she'd end up collecting a G-Virus sample in an extremely personal way.
Deep breath, keep it together. You're not in the transport anymore, what does that tell you? "Where are we?" she asked, opening her eyes. Leon shook his head. "I'm not sure. Like you said, it's an underground lab or factory of some kind. The transport is just outside. I brought you to the closest room."
Ada turned her aching head enough to see the small windows, over a cluttered counter, looking out into the transport bay.
Gotta be fourth level, where the lift stops…
The main synthesis lab was on the fifth level. Leon was staring down at her so sincerely, his bright blue gaze so achingly tender, that for just a few seconds, Ada thought about aborting the mission. They could go down to the escape tunnel together, they could hop on the train and get out of the city. They could run away, run far, far away…
… and then what? Call Trent and tell him that you'll offer a refund? Sure. Then maybe you can meet Leon's parents, get a ring, buy a little white house with a picket fence, have a couple of kids… you could take up crochet, and rub his feet when he comes home from a hard day busting drunks and making traffic stops. Happily ever after…
Ada closed her eyes again, unable to look at him as she spoke.
"My head hurts pretty bad, Leon, and the tunnel I saw, on that map – I don't know where it is, ex-actly." "I'll find it," he said softly. "I'll find it, and then I'll come back for you. Don't worry about anything, okay?" "Be careful," she whispered, and then felt his soft lips graze her forehead, heard him stand up and move toward the door. "Just stay here, I'll be back soon," he said, and the door opened and closed, and she was alone.
He'll be okay. He'll get lost trying to find the tunnel, he'll come back, he'll see that I'm gone and take the lift back to the surface… I can find the sample and escape, and it will be over.
Ada counted a minute and then sat up slowly, grimacing at the pounding in her skull. A bad knock indeed, but not a debilitating one; she could function. There was a noise outside, and Ada stood up, walking to one of the small windows. She knew the sound even before she looked, and felt her heart sink a little; the transport was heading up, probably recalled to the factory by an Umbrella team…
… which means I don't have a lot of time. And if they find him…
No, Leon would be okay. He was a fighter, he had the sense to run from danger, he was strong and decent – and he didn't need to have someone like her in his life. She'd been crazy to consider it, even for a moment. It was time to wrap things up, to do what she'd come to do, to remember who she was – a freelance agent, a woman with no qualms about stealing or killing to complete a job, a cool and efficient thief who could take pride in a career with no misses. Ada Wong always walked away with the goods, and it would take more than a few hours with one blue-eyed cop to make her forget it. Ada pulled the key cards and master from her pouch and opened the door, telling herself that she was doing the right thing and hopeful that in time she'd come to believe it.
TWENTY-SIX
Annette had run into some trouble. The trip down to the cargo room hadn't been bad; she'd only run across one carrier, one of the first– stagers, and had blown a hole into its ashy, withered skull with the first shot. She'd passed under a sleeping Re3, but it hadn't stirred from its ceiling bed, and it seemed that the other creatures still lurking in the facility shadows hadn't yet figured out that they were free. Either that, or more of them had disintegrated into mush than she'd imagined… in any case, she'd be gone before she had to worry about it either way. In all, she made it to the cargo room hall in under three minutes, and had punched in the key code with a sense of grand accomplishment; the high from the shot was wearing off, but she was still feeling good…… until the hatch to the cargo room refused to open. Annette had tapped the simple code in a second time, more carefully – and nothing. It was one of the only doors in all the facility that didn't open automat– ically on fail-safe triggering, but it shouldn't have been a problem – there was a verification disk in the slot beneath the controls, the disk that was always there in spite of Umbrella's insistence that only the section heads were supposed to have access…… and of course, upon checking, she'd seen that it wasn't there, that it wasn't where it was supposed to be. Someone had taken it. Annette stood in front of the locked hatch in the empty hall and felt the first bright tendrils of panic reach into her mind, a hysteria that she couldn't allow to take hold.
The lab's going to blow up, and I've wasted four,
almost five minutes now and where's the goddamn
disk?
"Easy, take it easy, you're okay, it's okay…"
A gentle echo, a whisper of reason in the shining hall. She'd simply have to take the elevator from a different level; she had the master key, she had a weapon, she had time. Not as much, but enough. Breathing deeply, Annette started back toward the hall that led to the stairs, reminding herself that all was well and that it didn't really matter, that Umbrel– la was going to pay whether or not she made it out alive. She didn't want to die, she wasn't going to die, but the gleaming, blood-splattered corridors and once-sterile labs were going to burn either way, so there was no need to panic…… and as she turned right and moved quickly down the connecting hall, her footsteps loud and hollow in the silence, a ceiling panel crashed down in front of her…… and an Re3, a licker, dropped to the floor and screamed for her blood.
No!
Annette fired, but only hit its scrabbling shoulder as it darted forward, reaching out with one deformed claw to swipe at her. She felt a sharp red pain in her forearm, and fired again, shocked and disbelieving…… and the second one caught it in the throat, and it screamed, blood spraying from its torn neck, its trumpeting shriek a garbled and spitting cry as it lunged at her again. The third shot blew into the gray jelly of its brain, and it flopped to a spasming stop just inches from her trembling legs. Gasping as she realized how close she'd been, Annette looked down at her bleeding arm, at the thick scratches that had torn through her lab coat…… and something gave. Something in her mind. Her racing mind, her pounding heart, the blood and the licker, William's licker, dead on the floor in front of her – all these things whirled and danced, spinning into a circle that came together and focused into a single, stunningly simple thought. A thought that made sense of it all.
It isn't theirs.
It was so clear, so crystal clear. She couldn't run from pain, because pain would find her wherever she ran; she had proof, dripping down her arm. William had understood, but had lost himself before he could explain, before he could tell her what she really needed to do. She had to confront her attackers, and make sure they understood that the G-Virus wasn't theirs, because it didn't belong to them.
But will they understand? Can they?
Maybe, maybe not. But she was so overwhelmed by the profound simplicity of the truth, she knew that she had to try, to make them see. The work was William's. It was his legacy, and now it was hers; she'd known that before, but now she knew it, a ray of light in her mind that made everything else trivial.
Not theirs. Mine.
She'd have to find them, tell them, and once they accepted the truth of it, they would have to leave her alone and then, if there was still time, she could go her own way. But first, she needed another shot. Smiling, her eyes wide and starry, Annette stepped over the licker and started for the stairs.
Leon thought he heard shots. He was in some kind of a surgical bay, the first room at the end of the first passage that he'd taken after leaving Ada, and he looked up from the pile of crumpled papers he'd found, listening, but the dis– tant cracks didn't repeat, so he went back to his search. He rifled quickly through the pages, desperate to find anything besides the endless lists of numbers and letters beneath the Umbrella letterhead. Come on, there must be something useful in all this… He wanted out, he wanted to get Ada and get the hell out. The disemboweled corpse slumped in the corner was reason enough, but it was more than that – the very air of the room, of the hall outside the room, and, he was willing to bet, of every room in the facility, was just wrong. It stank like death, but worse, there was an atmosphere of something darker, some– thing amoral. Evil.
They performed experiments here, they ran tests and God knows what else here – and they'd created a zombie plague, they'd created the monstrous demon that attacked Ada, they'd murdered an entire city. Whatever they meant to do, they were practicing evil. Evil on a grand scale; the transport had taken
them into a secret Umbrella facility, and it was a big one. From the numbers on the walls, he knew he was on the fourth floor, whatever that meant and the catwalk he'd taken to get to the strange operating room, only one of three choices, had stretched over what had to be sixty or seventy feet of open space, the bottom to it lost in shadow. He didn't know how deep he and Ada had come, and he didn't really care; what he wanted was a map like the one she'd found in the sewers, a clear and simple diagram with an arrow pointing to out.
And it ain't here…
Frustrated, Leon pushed the useless papers aside and saw there was a computer disk lying on the steel table that had been hidden beneath the stack of chemical readouts. He picked it up, frowning "For Cargo Room Verification" was printed on the label in smudged block letters. Sighing, Leon slipped it into his pocket and rubbed at his aching eyes with his right hand, his left arm basically useless again after carrying Ada from the lift. He didn't want to look for a computer to see what was on the disk, he didn't want to go wandering from room to room looking for the exit, seeing what atrocities Umbrella had played with before they'd shut themselves down. He was tired and in pain and worried about Ada… and he decided, as he walked back to the door, that he should go back and talk to her. He'd wanted to ease her mind, saying that he would find the way out, but the place was just too goddamn huge; if she even knew the direction, or could remember the floor number… Leon opened the door, stepped into the hall…… and a woman with a gun was standing in front of him, a nine-millimeter pointed at his chest. She was bleeding, thin streams of crimson pouring from one arm and dripping down her dirty white lab coat and the look on her face, the strange, wide-eyed glassy look that played across her features, told him that making any sudden moves would be a very bad idea.
Oh, Jesus, what is this? "You murdered my husband," she said, "you and your partner and the girl, too – all of you, you wanted to dance on his grave but I have news for you!"
She was high on something, he could hear it in her high, trembling voice and see it by the way her skin twitched and ticked. He kept his hands at his sides, kept his voice low and calm.
"Ma'am, I'm a police officer, and I'm here to help, okay? I don't want to hurt you, I just…"
The woman dipped her bloody hand into her pock– et and held up something, a glass tube full of some purple fluid. She grinned wildly, raising it over her head, the gun still trained on his chest.
"Here it is! It's what you want, isn't it? Listen to me, do you hear me? It isn 't yours! Do you understand what I'm saying? William made it, and I helped him, and it doesn't belong to you!" Leon nodded, speaking slowly. "It doesn't belong to me, you're right. It's yours, absolutely…"The woman wasn't even listening. "You think you can take it, but I'll stop you, I'll keep you from taking it – there's plenty of time, time for me to kill you and Ada and anyone else who tries to take it!" Ada… "What do you know about Ada?" Leon barked, taking a half-step toward the madwoman, no longer feeling so calm. "Did you hurt her? Tell me!"The woman laughed, a humorless, insane cackle.
"Umbrella sent her, you stupid shit! Ada Wong, Miss Love-em-and-leave-em herself! She seduced John to get the G-Virus but it's not hers, either! It's not, it's NOT YOURS IT'S MINE!”
A massive shock rocked the floor, pitching Leon to the ground, a rumbling vibration that shook the walls…… and crash, pipes and plaster rained from the ceiling, a thick beam striking the woman down with a dull thump. Leon covered his head as bits of concrete and white chunks of drywall slapped at him…… and it was over. Leon sat up, staring at the woman in shock, not sure what had happened. She wasn't moving. The metal beam that had struck her still hanging from the ceiling, one of her arms pinned beneath it…… and a cool, clear voice suddenly blared from hidden speakers somewhere in the walls – female, calm, and punctuated by the rhythmic bleat of a honking alarm.
"The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately. The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This program cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately…"
Leon scrambled to his feet, took one running step toward the fallen woman – then reached down and plucked the glass cylinder from her outstretched hand, shoving it into his utility pack. He didn't know who she was, but she was too crazy to be holding anything in a test tube. Ada – he had to get to Ada and they had to get out.
The throbbing, screeching alarms blasted through the echoing halls, chasing him through the door to the catwalk along with the indifferent-sounding female's repeating message of imminent destruction. The recorded voice didn't say how long they had, but Leon felt quite certain he didn't want to be around when the clock ran out.
The lab's going to blow up, and I've wasted four,
almost five minutes now and where's the goddamn
disk?
"Easy, take it easy, you're okay, it's okay…"
A gentle echo, a whisper of reason in the shining hall. She'd simply have to take the elevator from a different level; she had the master key, she had a weapon, she had time. Not as much, but enough. Breathing deeply, Annette started back toward the hall that led to the stairs, reminding herself that all was well and that it didn't really matter, that Umbrel– la was going to pay whether or not she made it out alive. She didn't want to die, she wasn't going to die, but the gleaming, blood-splattered corridors and once-sterile labs were going to burn either way, so there was no need to panic…… and as she turned right and moved quickly down the connecting hall, her footsteps loud and hollow in the silence, a ceiling panel crashed down in front of her…… and an Re3, a licker, dropped to the floor and screamed for her blood.
No!
Annette fired, but only hit its scrabbling shoulder as it darted forward, reaching out with one deformed claw to swipe at her. She felt a sharp red pain in her forearm, and fired again, shocked and disbelieving…… and the second one caught it in the throat, and it screamed, blood spraying from its torn neck, its trumpeting shriek a garbled and spitting cry as it lunged at her again. The third shot blew into the gray jelly of its brain, and it flopped to a spasming stop just inches from her trembling legs. Gasping as she realized how close she'd been, Annette looked down at her bleeding arm, at the thick scratches that had torn through her lab coat…… and something gave. Something in her mind. Her racing mind, her pounding heart, the blood and the licker, William's licker, dead on the floor in front of her – all these things whirled and danced, spinning into a circle that came together and focused into a single, stunningly simple thought. A thought that made sense of it all.
It isn't theirs.
It was so clear, so crystal clear. She couldn't run from pain, because pain would find her wherever she ran; she had proof, dripping down her arm. William had understood, but had lost himself before he could explain, before he could tell her what she really needed to do. She had to confront her attackers, and make sure they understood that the G-Virus wasn't theirs, because it didn't belong to them.
But will they understand? Can they?
Maybe, maybe not. But she was so overwhelmed by the profound simplicity of the truth, she knew that she had to try, to make them see. The work was William's. It was his legacy, and now it was hers; she'd known that before, but now she knew it, a ray of light in her mind that made everything else trivial.
Not theirs. Mine.
She'd have to find them, tell them, and once they accepted the truth of it, they would have to leave her alone and then, if there was still time, she could go her own way. But first, she needed another shot. Smiling, her eyes wide and starry, Annette stepped over the licker and started for the stairs.
Leon thought he heard shots. He was in some kind of a surgical bay, the first room at the end of the first passage that he'd taken after leaving Ada, and he looked up from the pile of crumpled papers he'd found, listening, but the dis– tant cracks didn't repeat, so he went back to his search. He rifled quickly through the pages, desperate to find anything besides the endless lists of numbers and letters beneath the Umbrella letterhead. Come on, there must be something useful in all this… He wanted out, he wanted to get Ada and get the hell out. The disemboweled corpse slumped in the corner was reason enough, but it was more than that – the very air of the room, of the hall outside the room, and, he was willing to bet, of every room in the facility, was just wrong. It stank like death, but worse, there was an atmosphere of something darker, some– thing amoral. Evil.
They performed experiments here, they ran tests and God knows what else here – and they'd created a zombie plague, they'd created the monstrous demon that attacked Ada, they'd murdered an entire city. Whatever they meant to do, they were practicing evil. Evil on a grand scale; the transport had taken
them into a secret Umbrella facility, and it was a big one. From the numbers on the walls, he knew he was on the fourth floor, whatever that meant and the catwalk he'd taken to get to the strange operating room, only one of three choices, had stretched over what had to be sixty or seventy feet of open space, the bottom to it lost in shadow. He didn't know how deep he and Ada had come, and he didn't really care; what he wanted was a map like the one she'd found in the sewers, a clear and simple diagram with an arrow pointing to out.
And it ain't here…
Frustrated, Leon pushed the useless papers aside and saw there was a computer disk lying on the steel table that had been hidden beneath the stack of chemical readouts. He picked it up, frowning "For Cargo Room Verification" was printed on the label in smudged block letters. Sighing, Leon slipped it into his pocket and rubbed at his aching eyes with his right hand, his left arm basically useless again after carrying Ada from the lift. He didn't want to look for a computer to see what was on the disk, he didn't want to go wandering from room to room looking for the exit, seeing what atrocities Umbrella had played with before they'd shut themselves down. He was tired and in pain and worried about Ada… and he decided, as he walked back to the door, that he should go back and talk to her. He'd wanted to ease her mind, saying that he would find the way out, but the place was just too goddamn huge; if she even knew the direction, or could remember the floor number… Leon opened the door, stepped into the hall…… and a woman with a gun was standing in front of him, a nine-millimeter pointed at his chest. She was bleeding, thin streams of crimson pouring from one arm and dripping down her dirty white lab coat and the look on her face, the strange, wide-eyed glassy look that played across her features, told him that making any sudden moves would be a very bad idea.
Oh, Jesus, what is this? "You murdered my husband," she said, "you and your partner and the girl, too – all of you, you wanted to dance on his grave but I have news for you!"
She was high on something, he could hear it in her high, trembling voice and see it by the way her skin twitched and ticked. He kept his hands at his sides, kept his voice low and calm.
"Ma'am, I'm a police officer, and I'm here to help, okay? I don't want to hurt you, I just…"
The woman dipped her bloody hand into her pock– et and held up something, a glass tube full of some purple fluid. She grinned wildly, raising it over her head, the gun still trained on his chest.
"Here it is! It's what you want, isn't it? Listen to me, do you hear me? It isn 't yours! Do you understand what I'm saying? William made it, and I helped him, and it doesn't belong to you!" Leon nodded, speaking slowly. "It doesn't belong to me, you're right. It's yours, absolutely…"The woman wasn't even listening. "You think you can take it, but I'll stop you, I'll keep you from taking it – there's plenty of time, time for me to kill you and Ada and anyone else who tries to take it!" Ada… "What do you know about Ada?" Leon barked, taking a half-step toward the madwoman, no longer feeling so calm. "Did you hurt her? Tell me!"The woman laughed, a humorless, insane cackle.
"Umbrella sent her, you stupid shit! Ada Wong, Miss Love-em-and-leave-em herself! She seduced John to get the G-Virus but it's not hers, either! It's not, it's NOT YOURS IT'S MINE!”
A massive shock rocked the floor, pitching Leon to the ground, a rumbling vibration that shook the walls…… and crash, pipes and plaster rained from the ceiling, a thick beam striking the woman down with a dull thump. Leon covered his head as bits of concrete and white chunks of drywall slapped at him…… and it was over. Leon sat up, staring at the woman in shock, not sure what had happened. She wasn't moving. The metal beam that had struck her still hanging from the ceiling, one of her arms pinned beneath it…… and a cool, clear voice suddenly blared from hidden speakers somewhere in the walls – female, calm, and punctuated by the rhythmic bleat of a honking alarm.
"The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately. The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This program cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately…"
Leon scrambled to his feet, took one running step toward the fallen woman – then reached down and plucked the glass cylinder from her outstretched hand, shoving it into his utility pack. He didn't know who she was, but she was too crazy to be holding anything in a test tube. Ada – he had to get to Ada and they had to get out.
The throbbing, screeching alarms blasted through the echoing halls, chasing him through the door to the catwalk along with the indifferent-sounding female's repeating message of imminent destruction. The recorded voice didn't say how long they had, but Leon felt quite certain he didn't want to be around when the clock ran out.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The cool, dark ride down through the elevator shaft ended in a squeal of hydraulic brakes and then silence, as the engines shut down and trapped them somewhere in the seemingly endless tunnel.
"Claire? What…"
Claire held a finger to her lips, hushing Sherry and heard what sounded like an alarm from some– where outside, a repeating, muffled bleat of honking noise. There seemed to be talking, too, but Claire could only make out the faintest mumble.
"Come on, sweetie, I think the ride's over. Let's see where we ended up, okay? And stay close."
They moved out of the transport room and onto the platform, the distant sounds not so distant any-more and there was light, coming from somewhere behind the lift. Claire took Sherry's hand as they walked quickly around, not wanting to worry the girl but feeling pretty sure that it was an alarm they were hearing. There was definitely someone speaking over the rhythmic squeals, too, and Claire wanted to know what they were saying. The lift had stopped only a few feet down from some kind of a service tunnel, the light she'd seen coming from a caged bulb that hung down from the tunnel's ceiling. There wasn't a door, but there was a decent-sized crawl space at the end of the short passage; it would have to do.
It's either that or climb back to the surface, probably only a mile or so up…
Not a chance. Claire boosted Sherry up and then climbed after her, moving to the front and then crouch-walking to the dark hole. The bleating sound got louder the closer she got to the crawl space, the mumble transforming into a woman's voice. She strained to hear the words, hoping that she'd catch "elevator malfunction" and "temporary", but she still couldn't make it out. They'd have to abandon the lift and hope that they were leaving it for something better. Claire swiveled around, sighing. "Looks like crawl
time for me and thee, kiddo. I'll go first, and then…"
SLAM! Sherry shrieked as something landed on the roof of the transport behind them, crashing through the top in a thundering clap of rending metal. Claire grabbed her, pulling her close, her breath caught in her throat…… and a hand, two hands appeared through the hole in the roof. Two thick arms, clad in shadow…… and the gleaming white of Mr. X's enormous skull rose up from the destroyed lift, like a dead moon on a starless night. Claire turned and pushed Sherry toward the dark– ness of the crawl space, her heart hammering, her body suddenly slick with sweat.
"Go! Go, I'm right behind you!"
Sherry disappeared into the curving black, darting out of sight like a frightened mouse, and Claire didn't look back, was too scared shitless to look back as she followed Sherry into the hole, their relentless stalker surely climbing through the shattered elevator to continue his determined and unfathomable hunt. Ada had heard pieces of Annette's screaming rant from the shadows of the catwalk hub, where the three metal spans joined. She'd forced herself not to rush to Leon's aid, promising herself that if she heard shots, she'd reconsider…… but then the laboratory facility had been vio– lently shaken, and the bland voice of the recording started its loop.
Shit!
Ada staggered to her feet, furious at the woman scientist, a part of her aching for Leon, knowing what this meant. Annette had triggered the fail-safe, which meant they probably had less than ten minutes to get the hell out of Dodge…
… and Leon doesn't know the way.
No, not important. If she was going to collect the sample, which Annette surely had on her, she needed to do it now. Leon wasn't her problem, he'd never been her problem, and she couldn't quit now, not after the hell she'd been through to get Trent's pre– cious virus. Ada took a single step away from the main fuse panel that connected the three catwalks and heard the pounding footsteps coming toward her, footsteps too heavy to be Annette's. She slid back into the shadows and around to the span that led west, press-ing herself against the hub's frame. A second later, Leon went running past, probably back to where he thought she'd be waiting for him.
Ada took a deep breath, blowing it out as she swept Leon from her mind, and hurried across the southern bridge to find Annette.
Ada was gone.
"…has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence…" "Shut up, shut up…" Leon hissed, standing help-lessly in the middle of the room, his stomach knotted, his hands balled into fists. When she'd heard the alarm, she must have pan– icked and run. She was probably stumbling through the giant facility, lost and dazed, maybe looking for him as that infernally calm voice repeated, as the sirens blared and rang.
The transport lift!
Leon turned and ran back through the door and saw that it was gone, a large empty hole a few feet deep where it had been. He'd been too intent on getting to Ada, he hadn't even noticed that it wasn't there anymore…
… we have to find that tunnel, we have to! Without the lift, we're trapped here!
With a silent howl of frustration, Leon turned and ran back toward the catwalks, praying that he would find her before it was too late.
The crawl space ended abruptly, stopping over at least a seven-foot drop to an empty tunnel. Her ears ringing, her mouth dry as dust, Sherry grabbed the edges of the square hole, closed her eyes, and jumped. She swung out over the hall and let go as soon as she was straight up and down, landing crooked and falling as her right leg crumpled. It hurt, but she hardly felt it, scrambling on hands and knees to get out of the way, staring up at the hole…… and there was Claire, her head coming out, her wide, worried eyes taking in that she was okay, that the hall was empty and safe… except that there were bells ringing and a woman on an intercom was talking, and Mr. X was coming. Claire stretched her arm down as far as she could with the gun. "Sherry, I need you to hold this, I can't turn around."
Sherry stood and reached up, grabbing the barrel, amazed at how heavy the gun was as Claire let go. "Don't point it at anything," Claire breathed, and then she actually dove out of the hole, curling her body and landing on her shoulder, her head tucked in tight. She did a half-somersault and then her legs banged into the concrete wall.
Before Sherry could even ask if she was all right, Claire was on her feet, taking the gun and pointing to the door at the end of the hall. "Run!" she said, and started to run herself, one hand pushing on Sherry's back as they sprinted for the door, as the intercom voice told them to get out, told them that a self-destruct sequence had been activated…… and behind them, a sound of crashing metal tore through the blaring noise of the sirens, and Sherry ran faster, terrified.
"Claire? What…"
Claire held a finger to her lips, hushing Sherry and heard what sounded like an alarm from some– where outside, a repeating, muffled bleat of honking noise. There seemed to be talking, too, but Claire could only make out the faintest mumble.
"Come on, sweetie, I think the ride's over. Let's see where we ended up, okay? And stay close."
They moved out of the transport room and onto the platform, the distant sounds not so distant any-more and there was light, coming from somewhere behind the lift. Claire took Sherry's hand as they walked quickly around, not wanting to worry the girl but feeling pretty sure that it was an alarm they were hearing. There was definitely someone speaking over the rhythmic squeals, too, and Claire wanted to know what they were saying. The lift had stopped only a few feet down from some kind of a service tunnel, the light she'd seen coming from a caged bulb that hung down from the tunnel's ceiling. There wasn't a door, but there was a decent-sized crawl space at the end of the short passage; it would have to do.
It's either that or climb back to the surface, probably only a mile or so up…
Not a chance. Claire boosted Sherry up and then climbed after her, moving to the front and then crouch-walking to the dark hole. The bleating sound got louder the closer she got to the crawl space, the mumble transforming into a woman's voice. She strained to hear the words, hoping that she'd catch "elevator malfunction" and "temporary", but she still couldn't make it out. They'd have to abandon the lift and hope that they were leaving it for something better. Claire swiveled around, sighing. "Looks like crawl
time for me and thee, kiddo. I'll go first, and then…"
SLAM! Sherry shrieked as something landed on the roof of the transport behind them, crashing through the top in a thundering clap of rending metal. Claire grabbed her, pulling her close, her breath caught in her throat…… and a hand, two hands appeared through the hole in the roof. Two thick arms, clad in shadow…… and the gleaming white of Mr. X's enormous skull rose up from the destroyed lift, like a dead moon on a starless night. Claire turned and pushed Sherry toward the dark– ness of the crawl space, her heart hammering, her body suddenly slick with sweat.
"Go! Go, I'm right behind you!"
Sherry disappeared into the curving black, darting out of sight like a frightened mouse, and Claire didn't look back, was too scared shitless to look back as she followed Sherry into the hole, their relentless stalker surely climbing through the shattered elevator to continue his determined and unfathomable hunt. Ada had heard pieces of Annette's screaming rant from the shadows of the catwalk hub, where the three metal spans joined. She'd forced herself not to rush to Leon's aid, promising herself that if she heard shots, she'd reconsider…… but then the laboratory facility had been vio– lently shaken, and the bland voice of the recording started its loop.
Shit!
Ada staggered to her feet, furious at the woman scientist, a part of her aching for Leon, knowing what this meant. Annette had triggered the fail-safe, which meant they probably had less than ten minutes to get the hell out of Dodge…
… and Leon doesn't know the way.
No, not important. If she was going to collect the sample, which Annette surely had on her, she needed to do it now. Leon wasn't her problem, he'd never been her problem, and she couldn't quit now, not after the hell she'd been through to get Trent's pre– cious virus. Ada took a single step away from the main fuse panel that connected the three catwalks and heard the pounding footsteps coming toward her, footsteps too heavy to be Annette's. She slid back into the shadows and around to the span that led west, press-ing herself against the hub's frame. A second later, Leon went running past, probably back to where he thought she'd be waiting for him.
Ada took a deep breath, blowing it out as she swept Leon from her mind, and hurried across the southern bridge to find Annette.
Ada was gone.
"…has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence…" "Shut up, shut up…" Leon hissed, standing help-lessly in the middle of the room, his stomach knotted, his hands balled into fists. When she'd heard the alarm, she must have pan– icked and run. She was probably stumbling through the giant facility, lost and dazed, maybe looking for him as that infernally calm voice repeated, as the sirens blared and rang.
The transport lift!
Leon turned and ran back through the door and saw that it was gone, a large empty hole a few feet deep where it had been. He'd been too intent on getting to Ada, he hadn't even noticed that it wasn't there anymore…
… we have to find that tunnel, we have to! Without the lift, we're trapped here!
With a silent howl of frustration, Leon turned and ran back toward the catwalks, praying that he would find her before it was too late.
The crawl space ended abruptly, stopping over at least a seven-foot drop to an empty tunnel. Her ears ringing, her mouth dry as dust, Sherry grabbed the edges of the square hole, closed her eyes, and jumped. She swung out over the hall and let go as soon as she was straight up and down, landing crooked and falling as her right leg crumpled. It hurt, but she hardly felt it, scrambling on hands and knees to get out of the way, staring up at the hole…… and there was Claire, her head coming out, her wide, worried eyes taking in that she was okay, that the hall was empty and safe… except that there were bells ringing and a woman on an intercom was talking, and Mr. X was coming. Claire stretched her arm down as far as she could with the gun. "Sherry, I need you to hold this, I can't turn around."
Sherry stood and reached up, grabbing the barrel, amazed at how heavy the gun was as Claire let go. "Don't point it at anything," Claire breathed, and then she actually dove out of the hole, curling her body and landing on her shoulder, her head tucked in tight. She did a half-somersault and then her legs banged into the concrete wall.
Before Sherry could even ask if she was all right, Claire was on her feet, taking the gun and pointing to the door at the end of the hall. "Run!" she said, and started to run herself, one hand pushing on Sherry's back as they sprinted for the door, as the intercom voice told them to get out, told them that a self-destruct sequence had been activated…… and behind them, a sound of crashing metal tore through the blaring noise of the sirens, and Sherry ran faster, terrified.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Annette birkin crawled out from beneath the crushing weight of the cold metal, still holding the gun, the G-Virus gone. As she opened her mouth to scream her fury, to rail to the Gods at the injustice of her terrible plight, blood dribbled out across her lips in a thick streamer of clotted drool.
– mine mine mine -
Somehow, she made it to her feet.
Ada told herself that she didn't deserve Leon Ken-nedy's good opinion anyway. She'd never deserved it.
Forgive me…
As he ran back across the catwalk from the trans– port bay area and swung west, running blind with fear for her, she stepped out of the hub's shadows and pointed the Beretta at his back.
"Leon!"
He spun around, and Ada felt her throat lock at the relief that spread across his face and struggled not to feel anything more as the joy turned sour, his grin fading.
Oh, Jesus, forgive me! "I've been waiting for you," she said, and felt no pride at how smooth and steady her voice sounded. How very cold. The alarms blared, the mechanical voice almost as icy as hers, telling them that the fail-safe couldn't be shut down. She didn't have time to let him get used to the idea, that she was as much a monster as the Birkin-thing or one of the soulless zombies. "The G-Virus," she said. "Give it to me." Leon didn't move. "She was telling the truth," he said, no anger but more pain than Ada wanted to hear. "You work for Umbrella." Ada shook her head. "No. Who I work for is no concern of yours. I… I…"
For the first time in years, since she'd been a very young girl, Ada felt the sting of tears and suddenly she hated him for that, for making her hate herself. "I tried!" she wailed, her composure blown by the fierce torrent of anger that coursed through her. "I tried to leave you, back in the factory! And you had to take it from Birkin, didn't you, you couldn't just leave it alone!"
She saw pity on his face, and felt the fury pass, swept away on a wave of sorrow for what she'd lost, with him; for the part of herself she'd lost a long, long time ago. She wanted to tell him about Trent. About the missions in Europe and Japan, about how she'd become what she was, about every event in her miserable, successful life that had brought her to this place – holding a weapon on a man who'd saved her. A man she might have cared about, in a different time and place. The clock was ticking. "Hand it over," she said. "Don't make me kill you." Leon stared into her eyes, and said, simply, "No." A second gone, then another. Ada lowered the Beretta. Leon steeled himself for the shot, for the bullet from Ada's gun that would kill him…… and she slowly lowered the weapon, her shoul– ders sagging, a tear running down one porcelain cheek. Leon blew out his held breath, feeling too many things, a jumble of sadness and betrayal – and pity, for the tortured struggle in her beautiful dark gaze and a shot rang out from the shadows behind her. Ada's eyes went wide, her mouth falling open as she pitched forward, the gun hitting the floor, her body hitting the rail and flipping over.
"Ada, no!"
He ran and dove, and somehow she caught the rail as he grabbed her wrist, her body dangling over the bottomless dark, blood spouting from her hanging, shattered shoulder.
"Ada, hold on!"
* * * "Mine," Annette whispered. She raised the handgun again, intending to shoot the other, to take back what was hers, to make them all pay…… and the gun was too heavy, it was falling, and she was falling with it. Together, they fell to the dark metal, the dark, the dark spinning up into her mind and finally taking her pain away.
William…
It was her very last thought before she went to sleep.
The door opened into a room filled with screaming machines, the howls and hisses of the humming, rattling giants drowning out the shrill call of the alarm warning. Claire ran, pulling and pushing Sherry along, look– ing desperately for a way out, knowing that the monster was close.
What does he want, why us?
There, a platform in the corner some six feet off the floor, a stack of crates pushed to one side just be-neath it. "This way!" Claire screamed, and they ran, past the rows of shuddering metal consoles, heat pouring from the machines as Claire pushed Sherry up and then climbed after her. Crash! She turned, saw that the massive creature was ripping through the door across the room, striding into the screaming heat and searching, searching… At the end of the platform, a double metal hatch. They dashed for it, Claire not thinking of anything but how to get away, how to destroy a thing that had survived all that it had…… the door was unlocked, and they ran onto anoth– er platform; the heat in the shadowy chamber was searing, terrible…… and a dead end. Claire saw that before they'd taken a half-dozen running strides into the massive room. They were on the overseer's platform in a foundry, the boiling heat rising up from the heavy smelting vats below. She had twelve bullets, split between two guns. Claire stumbled to the edge of the platform, Sherry next to her, the electric orange of the molten metal bathing them in its fevered glow. Hot enough to burn anything…
How? How do I make him jump? "Sherry, go over there!"
She pointed to the farthest corner of the platform, and Sherry shook her head, her small face trembling with fear. "Do it! Now!" Claire shouted, and with a cry of terror, Sherry ran, her locket banging against the open flaps of the denim vest -
– not a locket -
– and Sherry screamed, and Claire turned, and Mr. X was coming.
He walked into the chamber, as stiff and huge and impossible as when she'd first seen him, the eerie orange light turning him into even more of a night– mare. Claire stood her ground, jamming Irons's gun into her shorts, the half-formed plan running through her frightened mind. It probably wouldn't work but she had to try -
–he reaches for me, I jump over the railing, I grab on, he falls -
Mr. X turned his blank gaze toward her as he took his floor-shaking, measured steps, the black bullet holes in his face and throat just pockets of shadow in the smooth, terrible pumpkin light…… and he turned toward Sherry, and raised his fists, and started for her. "Hey! Hey, I'm here!" Claire screamed, and he didn't hear her, didn't see her, his entire monstrous being focused on the cowering, sobbing girl huddled against the far wall, clutching her locket…… and Claire knew what he wanted. The half remembered phrases from both Sherry and Annette came together in a flash of awareness, forming the answer.
G-Virus, rip her apart, good luck charm.
Not a locket.
"Sherry, he wants the necklace! Throw it to me!"
If she was wrong, they were both dead. Mr. X closed in on the girl, blocking her from Claire's view…… and the pendant, the G-Virus pendant that An-nette Birkin had inflicted on her young daughter came flying through the heated dark, hitting the floor in front of Claire's feet. Mr. X reeled around, following the path of the thrown pendant with his black eyes, forgetting Sherry the second the necklace left her grasp. It was true.
Good girl!
Claire scooped it up, waving it at the monster, feeling a rush of incredible anger and malicious glee as the bloated giant started toward her with unwaver-ing intent, fists raising again, his lifeless features fixed on the glittering pendant. "You want this?" Claire taunted, the words spilling out of the fury, for the wasted bullets, for the fear that she and Sherry had suffered. "Yeah? Then come and get it, you miserable, mindless freak!"
The monster was less than five feet away when Claire turned and threw it into the bubbling, burning hot pool, the necklace disappearing into the melted iron…… and the superman creature that had terrorized them throughout the endless night walked straight into the rail, the metal bars snapping in his all– powerful wake…… and plunged silently into the giant vat, a great wave of sizzling metal sloshing over the blackened sides, spontaneous eruptions of flame dancing up from the dark shape of his body as he disappeared beneath the surface of the molten lake. Triumph, sweet and wonderful – and then the cool voice of the recording changed suddenly, wiping away the joy of seeing Mr. X take a lava bath. Over the shrill blasts of the mechanical sirens.
"There are five minutes to reach minimum safe distance. All remaining personnel should evacuate immediately. Please report to the bottom platform. Repeat, please report to the bottom platform. Re-peat…"
Sherry was at her side, and Claire grabbed her hand, and they ran.
The pain was incredible, and Ada closed her eyes, wondering if she would die from it.
"Ada, hang on! Just hang on, I'll pull you up!"
Through the throbbing, pounding sirens that as-saulted her ears, Ada heard the countdown for the fail-safe start to run. Five minutes.
He tries to save me, we both die.
Leon's grip was strong, the determination in his panicked, pleading voice almost as strong as her own will. Almost, but not quite. Ada turned her face up to his, saw that in spite of it all, he still wanted her to survive, he wanted to help her up and carry her away to the safety of escape.
Not this time. Not for me…
Her life had been about selfishness, about ego and greed. She'd seen a lot of good people die, and somewhere along the way, she'd lost the ability to care – telling herself that even the effort was a waste of time and a sign of weakness.
And I was wrong, I was selfish and wrong and now it's too late.
Not too late. Whatever waited beneath her, the decision was made. "Leon, go down, west, and find the cargo room, past the row of plastic chairs. You'll need the disk, it's in my… pouch…"
"Ada, I have it! Cargo disk, right, I have it, I found it – don't talk, just hold on, let me help you!" He fumbled at the rail, trying to maintain his grip. Talking was a horrible effort, but she had to finish, had to tell him before time ran out.
"The code is 345. Get to the elevator, Leon. Take it down. The subway tunnel leads out. Have to run full throttle… and watch out for Birkin, the G-carrier, he… he's changing by now. Got it?"
Leon nodded, his blazing blue eyes filling her up. "Live," she said, and it was a good word, a word to go out on. She was tired, and the mission was wrapped, and Leon would live. She let go of the railing, and Leon screamed her name, and the sound of it followed her down into the dark like a bittersweet good-bye.
– mine mine mine -
Somehow, she made it to her feet.
Ada told herself that she didn't deserve Leon Ken-nedy's good opinion anyway. She'd never deserved it.
Forgive me…
As he ran back across the catwalk from the trans– port bay area and swung west, running blind with fear for her, she stepped out of the hub's shadows and pointed the Beretta at his back.
"Leon!"
He spun around, and Ada felt her throat lock at the relief that spread across his face and struggled not to feel anything more as the joy turned sour, his grin fading.
Oh, Jesus, forgive me! "I've been waiting for you," she said, and felt no pride at how smooth and steady her voice sounded. How very cold. The alarms blared, the mechanical voice almost as icy as hers, telling them that the fail-safe couldn't be shut down. She didn't have time to let him get used to the idea, that she was as much a monster as the Birkin-thing or one of the soulless zombies. "The G-Virus," she said. "Give it to me." Leon didn't move. "She was telling the truth," he said, no anger but more pain than Ada wanted to hear. "You work for Umbrella." Ada shook her head. "No. Who I work for is no concern of yours. I… I…"
For the first time in years, since she'd been a very young girl, Ada felt the sting of tears and suddenly she hated him for that, for making her hate herself. "I tried!" she wailed, her composure blown by the fierce torrent of anger that coursed through her. "I tried to leave you, back in the factory! And you had to take it from Birkin, didn't you, you couldn't just leave it alone!"
She saw pity on his face, and felt the fury pass, swept away on a wave of sorrow for what she'd lost, with him; for the part of herself she'd lost a long, long time ago. She wanted to tell him about Trent. About the missions in Europe and Japan, about how she'd become what she was, about every event in her miserable, successful life that had brought her to this place – holding a weapon on a man who'd saved her. A man she might have cared about, in a different time and place. The clock was ticking. "Hand it over," she said. "Don't make me kill you." Leon stared into her eyes, and said, simply, "No." A second gone, then another. Ada lowered the Beretta. Leon steeled himself for the shot, for the bullet from Ada's gun that would kill him…… and she slowly lowered the weapon, her shoul– ders sagging, a tear running down one porcelain cheek. Leon blew out his held breath, feeling too many things, a jumble of sadness and betrayal – and pity, for the tortured struggle in her beautiful dark gaze and a shot rang out from the shadows behind her. Ada's eyes went wide, her mouth falling open as she pitched forward, the gun hitting the floor, her body hitting the rail and flipping over.
"Ada, no!"
He ran and dove, and somehow she caught the rail as he grabbed her wrist, her body dangling over the bottomless dark, blood spouting from her hanging, shattered shoulder.
"Ada, hold on!"
* * * "Mine," Annette whispered. She raised the handgun again, intending to shoot the other, to take back what was hers, to make them all pay…… and the gun was too heavy, it was falling, and she was falling with it. Together, they fell to the dark metal, the dark, the dark spinning up into her mind and finally taking her pain away.
William…
It was her very last thought before she went to sleep.
The door opened into a room filled with screaming machines, the howls and hisses of the humming, rattling giants drowning out the shrill call of the alarm warning. Claire ran, pulling and pushing Sherry along, look– ing desperately for a way out, knowing that the monster was close.
What does he want, why us?
There, a platform in the corner some six feet off the floor, a stack of crates pushed to one side just be-neath it. "This way!" Claire screamed, and they ran, past the rows of shuddering metal consoles, heat pouring from the machines as Claire pushed Sherry up and then climbed after her. Crash! She turned, saw that the massive creature was ripping through the door across the room, striding into the screaming heat and searching, searching… At the end of the platform, a double metal hatch. They dashed for it, Claire not thinking of anything but how to get away, how to destroy a thing that had survived all that it had…… the door was unlocked, and they ran onto anoth– er platform; the heat in the shadowy chamber was searing, terrible…… and a dead end. Claire saw that before they'd taken a half-dozen running strides into the massive room. They were on the overseer's platform in a foundry, the boiling heat rising up from the heavy smelting vats below. She had twelve bullets, split between two guns. Claire stumbled to the edge of the platform, Sherry next to her, the electric orange of the molten metal bathing them in its fevered glow. Hot enough to burn anything…
How? How do I make him jump? "Sherry, go over there!"
She pointed to the farthest corner of the platform, and Sherry shook her head, her small face trembling with fear. "Do it! Now!" Claire shouted, and with a cry of terror, Sherry ran, her locket banging against the open flaps of the denim vest -
– not a locket -
– and Sherry screamed, and Claire turned, and Mr. X was coming.
He walked into the chamber, as stiff and huge and impossible as when she'd first seen him, the eerie orange light turning him into even more of a night– mare. Claire stood her ground, jamming Irons's gun into her shorts, the half-formed plan running through her frightened mind. It probably wouldn't work but she had to try -
–he reaches for me, I jump over the railing, I grab on, he falls -
Mr. X turned his blank gaze toward her as he took his floor-shaking, measured steps, the black bullet holes in his face and throat just pockets of shadow in the smooth, terrible pumpkin light…… and he turned toward Sherry, and raised his fists, and started for her. "Hey! Hey, I'm here!" Claire screamed, and he didn't hear her, didn't see her, his entire monstrous being focused on the cowering, sobbing girl huddled against the far wall, clutching her locket…… and Claire knew what he wanted. The half remembered phrases from both Sherry and Annette came together in a flash of awareness, forming the answer.
G-Virus, rip her apart, good luck charm.
Not a locket.
"Sherry, he wants the necklace! Throw it to me!"
If she was wrong, they were both dead. Mr. X closed in on the girl, blocking her from Claire's view…… and the pendant, the G-Virus pendant that An-nette Birkin had inflicted on her young daughter came flying through the heated dark, hitting the floor in front of Claire's feet. Mr. X reeled around, following the path of the thrown pendant with his black eyes, forgetting Sherry the second the necklace left her grasp. It was true.
Good girl!
Claire scooped it up, waving it at the monster, feeling a rush of incredible anger and malicious glee as the bloated giant started toward her with unwaver-ing intent, fists raising again, his lifeless features fixed on the glittering pendant. "You want this?" Claire taunted, the words spilling out of the fury, for the wasted bullets, for the fear that she and Sherry had suffered. "Yeah? Then come and get it, you miserable, mindless freak!"
The monster was less than five feet away when Claire turned and threw it into the bubbling, burning hot pool, the necklace disappearing into the melted iron…… and the superman creature that had terrorized them throughout the endless night walked straight into the rail, the metal bars snapping in his all– powerful wake…… and plunged silently into the giant vat, a great wave of sizzling metal sloshing over the blackened sides, spontaneous eruptions of flame dancing up from the dark shape of his body as he disappeared beneath the surface of the molten lake. Triumph, sweet and wonderful – and then the cool voice of the recording changed suddenly, wiping away the joy of seeing Mr. X take a lava bath. Over the shrill blasts of the mechanical sirens.
"There are five minutes to reach minimum safe distance. All remaining personnel should evacuate immediately. Please report to the bottom platform. Repeat, please report to the bottom platform. Re-peat…"
Sherry was at her side, and Claire grabbed her hand, and they ran.
The pain was incredible, and Ada closed her eyes, wondering if she would die from it.
"Ada, hang on! Just hang on, I'll pull you up!"
Through the throbbing, pounding sirens that as-saulted her ears, Ada heard the countdown for the fail-safe start to run. Five minutes.
He tries to save me, we both die.
Leon's grip was strong, the determination in his panicked, pleading voice almost as strong as her own will. Almost, but not quite. Ada turned her face up to his, saw that in spite of it all, he still wanted her to survive, he wanted to help her up and carry her away to the safety of escape.
Not this time. Not for me…
Her life had been about selfishness, about ego and greed. She'd seen a lot of good people die, and somewhere along the way, she'd lost the ability to care – telling herself that even the effort was a waste of time and a sign of weakness.
And I was wrong, I was selfish and wrong and now it's too late.
Not too late. Whatever waited beneath her, the decision was made. "Leon, go down, west, and find the cargo room, past the row of plastic chairs. You'll need the disk, it's in my… pouch…"
"Ada, I have it! Cargo disk, right, I have it, I found it – don't talk, just hold on, let me help you!" He fumbled at the rail, trying to maintain his grip. Talking was a horrible effort, but she had to finish, had to tell him before time ran out.
"The code is 345. Get to the elevator, Leon. Take it down. The subway tunnel leads out. Have to run full throttle… and watch out for Birkin, the G-carrier, he… he's changing by now. Got it?"
Leon nodded, his blazing blue eyes filling her up. "Live," she said, and it was a good word, a word to go out on. She was tired, and the mission was wrapped, and Leon would live. She let go of the railing, and Leon screamed her name, and the sound of it followed her down into the dark like a bittersweet good-bye.
TWENTY-NINE
Sherry was scared, but mr. x was dead and he must have been the monster all along, not the one at the station but the real monster, the one that had wanted to rip her apart all along…… but she didn't have time to think about it as Claire sprinted, jerking her along back the way they'd come, through the machine room, through the hall with the crawl space and around a corner…… and Sherry screamed as a zombie reeled toward them, a dead white creature made of dusty bone, and Claire raised her gun and shot…… bang, and the dry white head caved in, the moaning dead creature crumpled to the floor, and then Claire was dragging her over the body and running for the door at the end of the hall. It was an elevator, and Sherry collapsed against one wall after Claire pulled her inside, trying to catch her breath as Claire punched the controls. After the speed of their run from Mr. X, the elevator's descent was a crawl, a softly humming crawl. "We're gonna make it," Claire gasped, "just a little longer."
Sherry nodded, her heart pounding even harder as the intercom voice told them that they had four minutes left to be safe.
Leon felt like he didn't know how to stand up and walk away. The image of her composed, beautiful face in the second before she'd let go… she's gone. Ada's dead.
He reached for the Beretta, fresh grief washing over him as he picked it up, the weapon still warm from her touch – and it was too light, too light by half because it wasn't loaded. There wasn't even a clip. She'd never meant to hurt him; she'd lied, she'd lied all along, but she'd never meant to hurt him at all.
"… are four minutes to reach minimum safe dis-tance. All remaining personnel should evacuate im-mediately. Please report to the bottom platform…"
Four minutes. He had four minutes to get far enough away to fulfill Ada's last request. He stood up and turned for the door and stopped, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the tiny glass tube full of purple fluid. He knew he didn't have time to spare, but it only took a second to pull his arm back and throw the sample as hard as he could, wanting it as far away from him as possible.
If the laboratory responsible for so much death was
going to burn, let the G-Virus burn with it.
"Yes!"
The elevator door opened and there was a train, a secret subway train in shining silver. It was silent and dark, not the powered-up, thrumming machine that Claire had hoped to see, but it was still the most beautiful escape vehicle that she'd ever laid eyes on, hands down. Sherry holding on to her arm, they ran to the door at the front of the three-car subway, the bleating alarms still sounding, echoing through the concrete tunnel. The woman's bland voice, the voice that Claire had started to hate long moments ago, in– formed them that they had three minutes to get to the minimum safe distance. They hurried aboard, Claire noticing and not car– ing that there weren't any seats, just a wide, empty space for the passengers to stand in. The control booth was to the left. "Let's get this show on the road," Claire said, and the bright and radiant look of hope on Sherry's dirty, tired face made Claire's heart break, just a little.
Oh, baby…
Claire looked quickly away, hopping up the steps to the control room, making a silent promise to herself that if the train didn't work, she'd carry Sherry through the tunnel herself. Whatever it took to see that the fragile hope in her eyes wasn't broken. * * * The code and the verification disk he'd found in the operating room opened the door just as Ada had said, the broad hatch opening into a short hall. With three minutes left, Leon dashed down the cold corridor, through another overwide door, a biohazard symbol emblazoned across the front, and found himself in the cargo room. He didn't have time to stop and get a good look, his focus on getting to the elevator before the recording told him he couldn't possibly get out of the facility alive. Leon ran to the back of the wide, strangely red-tinted room, found the controls for the large warehouse-type elevator, and slapped the button for down, ready to jump in and go…… and nothing happened, except that a row of tiny lights… perhaps twenty tiny lights over the elevator door started to flash in descending order. Slowly. Leon reached forward and slapped the button again, feeling something like numb disbelief as the elevator crept down, pausing for what seemed like minutes between floors, as the alarms blared and the countdown to the lab's destruction ticked closer and closer to the end. "Jesus!" He turned around, feeling like he'd scream if he had to wait much longer…… and for the first time, got a clear look at the room he was in. The two tall, wide shelves that ran the length of the chamber held a very specific kind of "cargo" and although the half-dozen giant glass containers that lined each shelf held nothing but clear red fluid, Leon felt a chill just looking at them. Each cylinder was large enough to hold a full-grown man, and it made him wonder what they'd been built for. Doesn't matter, they're gonna be blown to shit in a matter of minutes, and so am I if this goddamn thing doesn't hurry UP… He turned back to the elevator, almost glad to be angry, frustrated, to have something to feel besides loss…… and the ceiling over the elevator started to shake and rattle. Leon backed away, pointing his Mag– num at the solid metal ceiling panel as it crashed down and out…… and the monster from the transport lift landed in front of him, the same demonic creature that had hurt Ada, that should have killed him…
Sherry nodded, her heart pounding even harder as the intercom voice told them that they had four minutes left to be safe.
Leon felt like he didn't know how to stand up and walk away. The image of her composed, beautiful face in the second before she'd let go… she's gone. Ada's dead.
He reached for the Beretta, fresh grief washing over him as he picked it up, the weapon still warm from her touch – and it was too light, too light by half because it wasn't loaded. There wasn't even a clip. She'd never meant to hurt him; she'd lied, she'd lied all along, but she'd never meant to hurt him at all.
"… are four minutes to reach minimum safe dis-tance. All remaining personnel should evacuate im-mediately. Please report to the bottom platform…"
Four minutes. He had four minutes to get far enough away to fulfill Ada's last request. He stood up and turned for the door and stopped, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the tiny glass tube full of purple fluid. He knew he didn't have time to spare, but it only took a second to pull his arm back and throw the sample as hard as he could, wanting it as far away from him as possible.
If the laboratory responsible for so much death was
going to burn, let the G-Virus burn with it.
"Yes!"
The elevator door opened and there was a train, a secret subway train in shining silver. It was silent and dark, not the powered-up, thrumming machine that Claire had hoped to see, but it was still the most beautiful escape vehicle that she'd ever laid eyes on, hands down. Sherry holding on to her arm, they ran to the door at the front of the three-car subway, the bleating alarms still sounding, echoing through the concrete tunnel. The woman's bland voice, the voice that Claire had started to hate long moments ago, in– formed them that they had three minutes to get to the minimum safe distance. They hurried aboard, Claire noticing and not car– ing that there weren't any seats, just a wide, empty space for the passengers to stand in. The control booth was to the left. "Let's get this show on the road," Claire said, and the bright and radiant look of hope on Sherry's dirty, tired face made Claire's heart break, just a little.
Oh, baby…
Claire looked quickly away, hopping up the steps to the control room, making a silent promise to herself that if the train didn't work, she'd carry Sherry through the tunnel herself. Whatever it took to see that the fragile hope in her eyes wasn't broken. * * * The code and the verification disk he'd found in the operating room opened the door just as Ada had said, the broad hatch opening into a short hall. With three minutes left, Leon dashed down the cold corridor, through another overwide door, a biohazard symbol emblazoned across the front, and found himself in the cargo room. He didn't have time to stop and get a good look, his focus on getting to the elevator before the recording told him he couldn't possibly get out of the facility alive. Leon ran to the back of the wide, strangely red-tinted room, found the controls for the large warehouse-type elevator, and slapped the button for down, ready to jump in and go…… and nothing happened, except that a row of tiny lights… perhaps twenty tiny lights over the elevator door started to flash in descending order. Slowly. Leon reached forward and slapped the button again, feeling something like numb disbelief as the elevator crept down, pausing for what seemed like minutes between floors, as the alarms blared and the countdown to the lab's destruction ticked closer and closer to the end. "Jesus!" He turned around, feeling like he'd scream if he had to wait much longer…… and for the first time, got a clear look at the room he was in. The two tall, wide shelves that ran the length of the chamber held a very specific kind of "cargo" and although the half-dozen giant glass containers that lined each shelf held nothing but clear red fluid, Leon felt a chill just looking at them. Each cylinder was large enough to hold a full-grown man, and it made him wonder what they'd been built for. Doesn't matter, they're gonna be blown to shit in a matter of minutes, and so am I if this goddamn thing doesn't hurry UP… He turned back to the elevator, almost glad to be angry, frustrated, to have something to feel besides loss…… and the ceiling over the elevator started to shake and rattle. Leon backed away, pointing his Mag– num at the solid metal ceiling panel as it crashed down and out…… and the monster from the transport lift landed in front of him, the same demonic creature that had hurt Ada, that should have killed him…