TWENTY-FOUR
LEON FINALLY STARTED TO FEEL LIKE HIMSELF
again, sitting in the control room where Ada had
left him. She'd found a medkit in one of the dustcovered
cabinets, along with a bottle of water; she'd
only been gone for about ten minutes, but the aspirin
was starting to kick in, and the water had worked
wonders.
He sat in front of a switch-covered console, trying
to piece together what had happened after the explosion
in the sewers; the last thing he really remembered
clearly was seeing the headless crocodile collapse, and
then being overwhelmed by a light-headed weakness.
Ada had bandaged him up and then led him through
tunnels...
... and a subway, we were on a subway for a minute
or two...
... and finally to this room, where she'd told him to
rest while she went to check on something. Leon had
protested, reminding her that it wasn't safe, but had
still been too fuzzy to do much more than sit where
she'd put him. He'd never felt so helpless, or so totally
dependent on another person. Once he'd gulped
about half of the gallon jug of water, though, he'd
started to snap out of it. Apparently, blood loss
tended to dehydrate ...
... so she gave me the water and then went to check
on what, exactly? And how did she know to come this
way?
He'd barely been able to walk, let alone ask any
questions, but even in his delirium, he'd noticed
how certain she was, how she'd chosen their path with
unwavering precision. How could she know? She was
an art buyer from New York, how could she know
anything about the sewer system of Raccoon City?
And where is she? Why hasn't she come back?
She'd helped him, she'd most probably saved his
Life, but he just couldn't keep believing that she was
who she said she was. He wanted to know what she
was doing, and he wanted to know now, and not just
because she'd been keeping secrets; Claire was still
somewhere in the sewers, and if Ada knew the way
out of the city, Leon owed it to her to try and find out.
Leon stood up slowly, holding onto the back of the
chair, and took a deep breath. Still weak, but no
dizziness, and his arm didn't hurt as badly, either -
- the aspirin, perhaps. He drew his Magnum and
walked to the door of the small, dusty room, promising
himself that he wasn't going to accept any more
vague answers or smiling brush-offs.
He opened the door and stepped out into an openended
warehouse almost big enough to be an aircraft
hangar, it was empty, decrepit, and heavily shadowed,
but the brisk night air that breezed through made it
almost pleasant...
... and there was Ada, stepping onto a raised platform
just outside of the hangar, disappearing behind
what looked like a section of a train. It was an
industrial transport lift - and from the well-oiled
look of the rails that ran through the warehouse, it
was one part of the abandoned factory that hadn't
been completely abandoned.
"Ada!"
Keeping his wounded arm tightly pressed to his
body, Leon ran toward the lift and felt dull anger as
he heard the rising thrum of the transport's engines,
the heavy mechanical sound spilling out into the clear
night sky. Ada was leaving, she hadn't gone to
"check" on anything...
... but she's not going anywhere until she tells me
why.
Leon ran out into the moonlit open, hearing the
door to the transport slam shut as he skirted a control
console and stepped up to the vibrating metal platform,
nearly tripping on the brightly painted steps.
Before he could catch his balance, the transport
started its descent; three-foot-high panels of corrugated
metal rose all the way around the train, containing
the large platform as it slid smoothly down into
the ground.
Leon grabbed for the door handle as the darkness
swept up around the humming transport, the sky
dwindling into a smaller and smaller starry patch
overhead. The cool, pale light of the moon and stars
was quickly replaced by the electric orange of the
transport's mercury lamps.
He stumbled inside, and saw the startled look on
Ada's face as she stood up from a bench bolted to one
side, as she half-raised her Beretta and then lowered it
again - and a flash of guilt, there and gone in the time
it took for him to close the door.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, staring at
each other as the room continued its smooth descent.
Leon could almost see her working to come up with
an explanation and as tired as he was, he decided
that he just wasn't in the mood.
"Where are we going?" he asked, making no effort
to keep the anger out of his voice.
Ada sighed and sat down again, her shoulders
sagging. "I think it's the way out," she said quietly.
She looked up at him, her dark gaze searching his.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to leave without
you, but I was afraid..."
He could hear real sorrow in her voice, see it in her
eyes, and felt his anger give a little. "Afraid of what?"
"That you wouldn't make it. That you wouldn't make
it, trying to keep both of us safe."
"Ada, what are you talking about?" Leon moved to
the bench, sitting down beside her. She looked down
at her hands, speaking softly.
"When I was looking for you, back in the sewers, I
found a map," she said. "It showed what looked like
some kind of an underground laboratory or factory
and if the map was right, there's a tunnel that runs
from there to somewhere outside of the city."
She met his gaze again, honestly distressed. "Leon,
I didn't think you were in any condition to make a
trip like that, like this - and I was scared that if I
brought you with me, if it was a dead end or something
attacked us. . ."
Leon nodded slowly. She'd been trying to protect
herself - and him.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I should have told you,
I shouldn't have just left you there like that. After all
you've done for me, I ... I at least owed you the truth."
The guilt and shame in her eyes wasn't something
that could be faked. Leon reached for her hand, ready
to tell her that he understood and that he didn't blame
her...
... when there was a resounding thump outside. The
entire transport shook, just a slight tremble, but
enough to make both of them tense.
"Probably a rough spot in the track..." Leon
said, and Ada nodded, gazing at him with an intensity
that made him pleasantly uncomfortable, a warmth
spreading through his entire body...
BAM!
... and Ada flew off the bench, thrown to the floor as
a massive, curled thing slammed through the wall,
crashing through the sheet metal of the vehicle's side
as though it were made of paper. It was a fist, a fist
with bone claws, each of them nearly a foot long, the
claws dripping with...
"Ada!"
The giant hand withdrew, its bloody talons ripping
new holes in the metal wall as Leon dropped to the
floor, grabbing Ada's limp body, pulling her into the
center of the transport. A terrible shriek pealed
through the moving darkness outside and it was the
same furious cry that they'd heard in the station, but
louder, more violent and even less human than
before.
Leon held on to Ada with his one good arm, feeling
the warm trickle of blood seeping out from her right
side, feeling her dead weight against his heaving chest.
"Ada, wake up! Ada!"
Nothing. He lowered her gently to the floor, then
pulled at the bloody hole in her dress, just above her
hip. Blood was welling up from two deep punctures;
there was no way to tell how bad, and he ripped at the
fabric, tearing off" the bottom few inches of her short
dress and pressing the wadded material against the
wound...
... and again the monster screamed, and the rage in
its throaty howl was nothing to what Leon was feeling,
staring down at Ada's still and closed face. He
stretched her tight dress over the makeshift bandage,
fixing it in place as best he could, then stood up and
unstrapped the Remington.
Ada had taken care of him, had protected him when
he couldn't protect himself. Leon loaded the shotgun
grimly, feeling no pain at all as he prepared to return
the favor.
When they reached what looked like the end of the
line, it was Sherry who figured out where her mother
must have gone. They'd walked into yet another open,
shadowy room, but it only had the one door; there
seemed to be no other way out of the cavernous
chamber, unless Annette had jumped off the raised
floor and trekked off through the unlit emptiness that
surrounded them.
They stood at the edge of the darkness, trying to see
down into the shadows and having no luck. The room
was set up almost like a loading dock: a railed
platform ran from the door along the back wall, then
ended abruptly, giving way to a seemingly endless
void. Either Annette had climbed down and navigated
some secret path through the dark, or Claire
had been mistaken about which way she'd gone.
So what now? Go back, or try to follow?
She didn't want to do either one - although going
back pretty much beat the crap out of the idea of
walking into a pitch-black abyss. And Leon was
probably still back there somewhere . . .
"Could it be a train? Is this like a train station?"
Sherry asked, and as soon as she said "train," Claire
gave herself a solid mental kick in the ass.
Platform, railings, about a thousand overhead
"pipes."...
Claire grinned at Sherry, shaking her head at her
own stupidity; she was getting flaky, no doubt
about it.
"Yeah, I think it is," she said, "though you guessed
it, not me. My brain must be on strike..."
The small computer console on one side of the
platform, the one she'd dismissed as unimportant,
was probably the control board. Claire headed for it,
Sherry following along and clutching absently at her
gold locket as she described the noises she'd heard,
down in the drainage well.
"... and it was moving away, like a train would. It
scared me pretty bad, too. It was loud."
Sure enough, just beneath the small monitor screen
on the standing console was a recall command code
and a ten-key. Claire tapped in the code and hit
"enter" - and the chamber was filled with the smooth
hum of working machinery: the sound of a train.
"You're one smart cookie, you know that?" Claire
said, and Sherry practically beamed, her entire face
crinkling with her sweet smile. Claire wrapped an arm
around her shoulders and they walked back to the
edge of the platform to wait.
The tram's light appeared after a few seconds, the
tiny circle of brightness getting bigger as they
watched. After the trials they'd been through, Claire
decided to be as fantastically optimistic about this
new development as she could - primarily to keep
from worrying about what horrible thing would probably
happen next. The train would lead out of the city,
of course, and it would be well-stocked with food and
water; it'd have showers and fresh, warm clothes -
- nah, scratch that. A hot tub, and a couple of those
thick terry robes, for after. And slippers.
Nice, but she'd settle for anything that didn't include
monsters or crazy people. She glanced at Sherry,
and noticed that she was still rubbing her locket.
"So what's in there?" she asked, wanting to make
Sherry smile again. "You got a picture of your boyfriend,
or what?"
"Inside? Oh, it's not a locket," Sherry said, and
Claire was pleased to see a faint blush rise in her
cheeks. "My mom gave it to me, it's a good-luck
charm and I don't have a boyfriend. Boys my age
are totally immature."
Claire grinned. "Get used to it, sweetie. As far as I
can tell, some of them never grow out of it."
The train was close enough now for them to see its
shape, a single car about twenty or twenty-five feet
long riding smoothly along its overhead track.
"Where do you think it goes?" Sherry asked, and
before Claire could answer, the door to the platform
exploded.
The hatch blew inward, torn off its hinges in a
squeal of metal and clanging to the floor
and Claire grabbed Sherry, pulling her close as
the towering Mr. X stepped into the room, bending
low and sideways to squeeze through the opening, his
soulless gaze turning toward them at once.
"Get behind me!" Claire shouted, pulling Irons's
handgun, risking a glance back at the approaching
train. Ten seconds, they needed ten seconds,
but X took a giant step toward them, and she
knew they didn't have them. His bland, terrible face,
expressionless, his giant hands already rising, still
twenty feet away but only four steps in his massive
stride...
"Get on the train when it stops!" Claire screamed,
and pulled the trigger.
Four, five, six shots, beating into his chest. The
seventh hit one dead-white cheek, but Mr. X didn't
blink, didn't bleed - and didn't stop. Another mighty
step, the black, smoking pit in his face a testament to
his inhumanity. Claire lowered her aim, legs, knees...
Bam-bam-bam!
... and he paused as the rounds smashed into him,
at least one a direct hit to his left knee, the black eyes
fixed on her, marking her...
"... here, come on!"
Sherry was pulling at her vest, screaming, and
Claire backed away, squeezing the trigger again. Two
more rounds hit him in the gut...
... and then she was on the train, and Sherry had
found the control for the door. It whooshed shut, Mr.
X framed in the tiny window, not coming forward
anymore but still not falling. Not dying.
"Follow me!" Claire shouted, spotting the board of
blinking lights to her right, knowing that the door
wouldn't hold for a second if the giant, terrible
creature started walking again.
She ran for the control board with Sherry at her
side, thanking God that the designer had been userfriendly
as the red "go" button snapped down beneath
her shaking hand...
... and the train was moving, sliding away from the
platform, away from the indestructible un-man and
into the black.
Annette sat in the staff bunk room on level four,
waiting for the mainframe to respond to the power-up
and debating whether or not to initiate the P-Epsilon
sequence. Once the fail-safe system was triggered, all
of the connecting corridor doors would unlock, and
those doors that were electronically powered would
open. The creatures that had been trapped these last
days would be free to roam, and most of them would
be hungry...
... hungry and hot, bleeding pure virus from their
clotted flesh ...
She didn't want to run into any unpleasantness
upon her departure, but as the first lines of code
spilled across the screen, she decided against running
the sequence. The P-Epsilon gas was an experiment
anyway, something a couple of the microbiologist
techs had worked up to appease the Umbrella
damage-control staff. If it worked, it would knock out
the Re3s and all of the human carriers that had been
infected by the initial airborne - the first wave - ensuring
her a safer trip to the escape transport tunnel;
but the spies were coming, and Annette didn't want to
make things easy for them. She'd heard the lift being
recalled as she'd stumbled her way to the synthesis
lab - which was fine, great, they'd be just in time for
the finale, and she wanted them fighting for their
lives as she sped away from the facility, away from
the brilliant explosion that would consume the
multibillion-dollar facility...
... and it'll burn, it'll all burn and I'll be free of this
nightmare. Endgame and I win. Umbrella loses, once
and for all, the sneaking, murdering animal bastards...
She felt good, awake and aware and in very little
pain; she'd meant to go straight to the nearest computer
outlet upon her return to activate the fail-safe
even before collecting the sample, but she'd barely
been able to see straight as she'd stumbled off the lift;
she'd been afraid of forgetting something - or worse,
of falling and being unable to get up again. A trip to
the meds locker in the synthesis lab had fixed all that;
already, the terrible pain was a distant memory, along
with the bizarre, deluded thought processes that had
made it so hard to concentrate. When her little
cocktail shot wore off, she'd pay for the temporary
reprieve, but for the next couple of hours, at least, she
was as good - she was better - than new.
Epinephrine, endorphin, amphetamine, oh my!
Annette knew she was high, that she shouldn't
overestimate her abilities, but why shouldn't she feel
happy? She grinned at the small computer in front of
her and started to tap in the codes, her fingers flying
over the keys, feeling like her teeth would crack as the
synthetic adrenaline pounded through her dilated
veins. She'd made it back to the lab, William had
come back, and the sample, the very last viable GVirus
sample in the facility, was tucked into her
pocket. She'd hidden it in one of the fuse cases before
she'd gone looking for William, and picked it up on
the way to the staff room...
... 76E, 43L, 17A, fail-safe time... 20, vocal
warning/power cut, 10, personal authorization,
...Birkin...
... and that was it. Annette couldn't stop grinning,
didn't want to stop as she lightly stroked the "enter"
key, the triumph a hot and liquid joy spinning
through her numb and tattered flesh. One touch, and
there was nothing on earth that could stop it. In ten
minutes, the taped warnings would start to run, and
the transport lift would shut down, cutting the facility
off from the surface; in fifteen, the audio would begin
the countdown - five minutes to reach the minimum
safe distance by train, another five and...
Boom. Twenty minutes before the explosion. More
than enough time to get to the tunnel and power up the
train, no matter what is loosed; enough time to speed
away from the ticking dock, beneath the city streets,
through the isolated foothills at the outskirts of Raccoon.
Enough time to get to the end of the track, walk
out into the private plot of land, turn around and see
Umbrella lose it all.
As the clock ticked to zero, the plastique fail-safe
charges in the laboratory's central power core would
be activated. Even if all but one of the twelve explosive
packets failed, that one blast would be enough to
set off the secondary charges that were built into the
walls themselves; Umbrella's fail-safe system had
been designed to take it all down. The lab would
become an inferno, blasting up into the dead city,
visible for miles and she'd be there to see it, to
know that she'd done what she could to make things
right.
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.
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