ResidentEvil-CodeVeronica [Chapter: 20]

TWENTY

CLAIRE FELT LIKE SHIT, AND THERE WAS

nothing she could do about it. Steve was dead, and Chris

would either come or he wouldn't, and whatever happened,

everything was going to blow up pretty soon, and

she had no say in any of it.

"You have two minutes to reach minimum safe distance,"

the computer politely informed her, and Claire

extended her middle finger toward the closest speaker. If

there was a hell, she knew what they played in the elevators

instead of music.

There was only one jet where the elevator had let her

out, and Claire sat on the railing in front of it, her arms

tightly crossed, her stare fixed on the elevator doors. She

watched and waited, her anxiety building, a part of her believing

completely that he wasn't coming as alarms blared

through the mostly empty hanger, echoing back at her.

Don't leave me, Chris, she thought, clutching herself

tighter. She thought of Steve, remembering the laugh attack

he'd inspired back on the island. How he'd looked

at her like she was crazy.

Come now, Chris, she thought, closing her eyes and

wishing it as hard as she could. She couldn't lose him,

too, her heart wouldn't be able to stand it.

There was one minute to reach minimum safe distance.

When the building started to rumble beneath her feet,

she thought she might cry, but there were no tears. She

went back to watching the elevator door instead, certain

now that he was gone - so sure that when the door

opened, when he stepped out, she thought she might be

hallucinating.

"Chris?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, and

he was running toward her, splashes of blood and something

else smeared across his face and arms, and that

was when she understood that he was real. She wouldn't

have hallucinated him with goop on his face.

"Chris!"

"Get in," he commanded, and Claire jumped into the

second seat, happy and scared and anxious, lonely and

relieved, wishing that Steve was with them and sad that

he wasn't. There were more feelings, seeming dozens,

but at the moment, she couldn't handle any of them. She

pushed them aside and didn't think at all, didn't feel

anything but hope.

Chris tucked them in tight and started pushing buttons,

the small jet roaring to life. Above them, the ceiling

slid apart, the storm clouds breaking up overhead as

he lifted them out of the hanger, smooth and easy. A few

seconds later, they were blasting away, leaving the

dying facility behind.

Chris's shoulders relaxed, and he wiped his hand

across his forehead, trying to rub off the sour-smelling

gunk.

"I could use a shower," he said lightly, and the tears

finally welled up, spilling over her lower lashes.

Chris, I thought I'd lost you, too...

"Don't leave me alone again, okay?" she asked, doing

what she could to keep the tears out of her voice.

Chris hesitated, and she instantly knew why, knew

that it wasn't over for either of them. That was too much

to ask.

"Umbrella," she said, and Chris was nodding.

"We have to settle this, once and for all," he said

tightly. "We have to, Claire."

Claire didn't know what to say, finally opting not to

say anything. When the explosion came a moment later,

she didn't look. She closed her eyes instead, leaning

back into her seat, and hoped that when she finally slept,

she wouldn't dream.