ELEVEN
JILL SLID TO A STOP AT THE CITY HALL GATE,
both gems held tightly in one sweaty hand. The area
was clear, at least as far as she could see, but the restaurant
had been empty, the Nemesis gone, and that meant
she needed to hurry; she didn't know how, but it was
tracking her, and she wanted to get gone.
Her blurred dash through the alleyways behind the
restaurant had left her short of breath and not a little
frightened. She'd nearly tripped over the body of some
unlikely creature, one she'd been unable to see in the
deepening blackness - but the dark silhouette of multiple
claws hanging dead in the shadows had been more
than enough to keep her moving. It didn't look like
anything she'd seen before; that, and the threat of the
Nemesis's inevitable pursuit had her hi a mild panic.
She used it to lend speed to her efforts, careful to maintain
tight control. She knew from experience that keeping
in touch with one's animal instincts was a vital part
of surviving; a little fear was a good thing, it kept the
adrenaline flowing.
The ornamental clock was set into a raised dais next
to the gate. She fumbled the blue jewel into place, the
diamond-shaped glass setting off a faint electrical hum,
a circular chain of lights that bordered the jewels flickering
on. The green diamond went in just as easily,
turning the light chain into a complete circle. There
was a heavy grinding sound and the gate's two sets of
doors slid open, revealing a shadowy path surrounded
by overgrown hedges.
It didn't look bad from where she stood. She eased
into the silent walk, opening her senses. Cool, dark, a
mild breeze promising rain the only thing that moved,
rustling the trees, brushing leaves, chilling the sweat on
her face and arms. She could hear the soft wailing of a
distant virus-zombie drift through the air, and she saw
the pale smudges of early moonlight on the path stones.
Alert but sensing no immediate danger, she stepped
further inside, her thoughts turning to Carlos Oliveira.
He was telling the truth about being one of Umbrella's
hired hands and probably about not knowing
what the company was really up to, but he was also
holding something back. He wasn't as good a liar as he
thought, and his apparent willingness to lie didn't bode
well.
On the other hand, he didn't come across as devious
in any way - a liar who meant well, perhaps, or at least
who didn't mean any harm. He was probably just being
careful - doing exactly what she was doing. Whatever
the case, she didn't have time to do any major interpreting,
so she was going with her first impression: he was
one of the good guys. Whether or not that would be of
any help to her was another story; for the moment, she
was willing to settle for any ally who didn't have plans
to kill her.
But should I be hooking up with anyone? What happens
if he gets in the way of the Nemesis, and...
As if on cue she heard it, a malevolent coincidence
that seemed unreal, like some deadly joke.
"Sstaarrss..."
Speak of the devil, oh, shit, where is it? Jill was almost
at the center of the small park, where three trails
intersected, and the sound came from somewhere
ahead - or was it behind? The acoustics were strange,
the tiny courtyard just in front of her making the low,
hissing cry seem to come from everywhere. She spun,
searching, but the path behind her and the two that
stretched away from the open yard disappeared into
shadow.
Which way... She stepped lightly into the open
space, giving herself greater access to escape and room
to maneuver, if it came to that.
A solid, heavy footstep. Another. Jill cocked her
head and there, ahead and to the left, the path that led to
the trolley. A thickening darkness, still just out of clear
sight.
Go back, newspaper office or back to the station, no,
no way I can outrun it but there's the gas station, it has
a metal lock-down shutter and there's a shitload of
cars, the better to hide...
Ahead and to the right. A simple plan was better than
none, and she'd run out of time to consider her options
any further.
Jill took off, the light patter of her boots lost beneath
a sudden clash of motion, the rising howl and dense
tread of semisynthetic feet bearing down on the courtyard.
She was deeply conscious of herself, of her muscles
contracting, of the sounds of her heart and breath
as she flew over the stones. In an instant, she was at the
small gate that led further north, that would take her
down a block packed with abandoned cars, past a gas
station/repair shop, toward...
She couldn't remember. If the street was clear, she
could head through the industrial section of town, hope
that she didn't run into any of the zombie packs. If
blockades had been put up -
- then I'm screwed, and it's too late anyway.
She let her well-trained body do the rest of her thinking,
nimbly slipping through the gate and into a crouching
run, carrying her into the relative safety of a maze
of gridlocked cars and trucks. She could feel it coming,
and she allowed herself to flow into the shadows, to
find in herself some primal understanding of her place
in the hunt. She was the prey, she had to be as elusive
as the Nemesis was determined; if she did it right, she
would survive and the creature would go hungry. If
not...
No time, no more thinking. The Nemesis was coming.
Jill moved.
In the parking garage's office, Carlos found a half
case of bottled water, some duct tape, and a men's
dress shirt still in its package - as close to sterile supplies
as they were going to get. He immediately set to
doing what he could for Mikhail while Nicholai kept
watch, staring out at the broken automobiles in the
dark, rifle in hand. The courtyard was silent except for
Mikhail's harsh breathing and the lonely cry of a distant
crow.
Carlos didn't know much beyond simple triage, but
he thought the wound wasn't too bad; the bullet had
gone clean through Mikhail's side, not far above his
left hip bone; an inch or two closer in and he
would've been toast, a shot to the liver or kidneys his
death warrant. As it was, his lower intestine had
probably been pierced; it would kill him eventually,
but with prompt medical attention, he should be okay
for now.
Carlos cleaned and dressed the wound, taping compresses
on, wrapping strips of the shirt around
Mikhail's torso to keep the pressure up. The platoon
leader seemed to be managing the pain well enough,
though he was nauseous and dizzy from loss of blood.
Out of the corner of his eye, Carlos noticed that
Nicholai was moving. He finished layering tape over
the bandages and looked up, saw that the squad leader
had taken a laptop computer out of his shoulder bag
and was tapping at keys, his face a study in concentration.
He'd slung his rifle and was crouched next to a
smashed pickup truck.
"Sir - ah, Nicholai, I'm done here," Carlos said,
standing. Mikhail had insisted that they drop the formalities
of rank, pointing out that their situation demanded
flexibility. Carlos had agreed, though he hadn't
gotten the impression that Nicholai liked it much; he
seemed to be a by-the-book type.
Mikhail, pale and bleary-eyed, pushed himself up on
his elbows. "Any way you can use that thing to call for
evac?" His voice was weak.
Nicholai shook his head, sighing. He closed the laptop
and returned it to his bag. "I found it at the police
station and thought it might be of some use - lists of
blockades, perhaps, or more information about this.
disaster."
"No luck?" Mikhail asked.
Nicholai moved toward them, his expression resigned.
"No. I think our best option is to try and make
it to the clock tower."
Carlos frowned. Trent had told him there was supposed
to be a supply of weapons at a clock tower, and
that he should head north from there; between Jill's
westbound cable car and this new information, he was
starting to feel plagued by coincidences. "Why the
clock tower?"
Mikhail answered, speaking softly. "Evacuation.
It's where we were supposed to take the civilians and
signal the transports to come in. The clock tower
bells are scheduled to toll by computer, a system that
emits a beacon signal when the program is being
used. We ring the bells, the 'copters come. Cute,
huh?"
Carlos wondered why no one had bothered to include
that little nugget of information in their briefing
but decided not to ask. It didn't really matter at this
point; they had to get to the trolley. He didn't know
Nicholai well, but Mikhail Victor was no threat, not in
his condition, and he needed to get to a hospital. Trent
had said there was one not far from the clock tower.
But Umbrella's eyes and ears...
No. Their stories were the same as his; they'd fought
and watched their teammates die, gotten lost, looked
for a way out and ended up here. It just felt weird, suddenly
having two more people involved. Trent had him
questioning everyone's motives now, wondering who
might be involved in the alleged Umbrella conspiracy,
worrying about what he could and couldn't say.
Besides, Umbrella screwed them over, too. Why
would they want to help the bastards who landed us in
this shit? Trent may be telling the truth, but he's not
here. They are, and I need them. We need them. Jill
couldn't possibly object to having a few soldiers on her
side.
"There's a cable car we can use to get out there,"
Carlos said. "Right to the clock tower, I think. It's
close, it runs west ... and with all those things out
there looking for fresh meat..."
"We could use a ride out of town," Nicholai broke in,
nodding. "Assuming the tracks are clear. Wonderful.
Are you sure it's in operating condition?"
Carlos hesitated, then shrugged. "I haven't actually
seen it. I ran into a ... cop, I guess, a woman, she told
me about it. She was on her way there, to see, she said
she'd wait for me. I wanted to see if I could find anyone
before we left." He felt almost guilty telling them
about her, and abruptly he realized that he was letting
all of Trent's crazy spy crap get to him. Why keep Jill a
secret? Who cared?
Mikhail and Nicholai exchanged a look and then
both nodded. Carlos was glad. At last, a real plan, a
course of action. The only thing worse than being in
deep shit was being in deep shit with no direction.
"Let's go," Nicholai said. "Mikhail, are you ready?"
Mikhail nodded, and together, Carlos and Nicholai
lifted him, supporting his weight as evenly as they
could. They edged into the parking garage and had almost
made it back to the office when Nicholai let out a
mild curse and stopped.
"What?" Mikhail closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
"The explosives," Nicholai said. "I can't believe I
forgot why I even came back this way. After I found
Mikhail, I just..."
"Explosives?" Carlos asked.
"Yes. Just after the zombies attacked, and my
squad" - Nicholai swallowed, obviously struggling to
maintain his composure - "after the zombies attacked,
I ended up near a construction site, back in
the industrial area. A building was being torn down, I
think, and I saw a few discarded boxes with high explosive
warnings. There was a locked trailer, I was
going to break in but another wave of them came
after me."
He met Carlos's gaze squarely. "They'd think twice
about attacking in groups if we had a few RDX dynamite
mixes to throw at them. Do you think you can
make it to the trolley without me? I can meet you
there."
"I don't think we should split up," Mikhail said. "We
stand a better chance if..."
"If we have a way to keep them from getting too
close," Nicholai interjected. "We can't afford to run out
of ammo, not without something else to back us up.
And there are the others to consider, the creatures..."
Carlos didn't think splitting up was such a good idea,
either, but remembering that clawed thing from outside
the restaurant -
- and what about that big feon inside the restaurant?
Jill said it would be coming after her again...
"Yeah, okay," Carlos said. "We'll wait for you at the
cable car."
"Good. I won't be long." Without another word,
Nicholai turned and quickly walked away, out of the
garage and into the night.
Carlos and the pale Mikhail struggled on in silence.
They'd gone back through the office and out into the
street before Carlos realized that Nicholai hadn't bothered
asking for directions to the trolley.
Nicholai had to resist a powerful urge to check the
computer again as soon as he was out of sight; he had
wasted enough time playing the upstanding squad
leader to the two idiot soldiers. It had already been
nineteen minutes since Captain Davis Chan had filed a
Watchdog status report from the Umbrella medical
sales office - about two blocks from the parking
garage - and if Nicholai was very lucky, he might catch
Chan still in the act, checking updated memos or trying
to get through to one of the administrators.
Nicholai jogged down a narrow alley plastered with
flyers, hopping over several corpses strewn throughout,
careful to avoid their upper bodies in case they weren't
dead. Sure enough, one of the blasted-looking things
near the end of the alley tried to reach around and grab
his left boot. Nicholai jumped it with no trouble, smiling
a little at its frustrated moan. Almost as pathetic as
Mikhail.
Carlos Oliveira, though. Tougher than he looked, and
definitely brighter - no match for him, of course, but
Nicholai would want to get rid of him sooner rather
than later...
... or not. I could bypass that charade entirely.
Nicholai pushed through a metal door to his right,
into another alley littered with human remains, considering
his options as he hurried along. He didn't
need to go to the clock tower for any reason, just the
hospital - and he didn't have to take the trolley. Toying
with Mikhail and now Carlos was enjoyable, but
not a necessity. He could even let them live, if he
chose...
He grinned, turning a corner in the winding alleyway.
What fun would that be? No, he was looking forward
to watching the trust in their eyes crumble, seeing
them realize how stupid they'd been...
Tic tic tic.
Nicholai froze, understanding the sound instantly.
Claws on rock, ahead of him, the almost gentle clatter
coming from the shadows above and to the left. The
only available light was behind him in the walkway's
comer, one of those buzzing fluorescent security lamps
that barely had the power to show itself; he backed toward
it, the tics coming faster and closer, the creature
still unseen.
"Show yourself, then," he growled, frustrated with
yet another instance of bad timing. He had to get to the
sales office before Chan disappeared, he didn't have
time to battle one of Umbrella's freaks, much as he
wanted to.
Tic tic tic.
Two of them! He could hear claws scratching cement
to his right, where he'd just been, even as an unholy
shriek sounded from the dark in front of him, a sound
like madness, like souls being ripped apart...
... and there it was, screaming, leaping from the dark
as the other joined in its monstrous song, moving black
hell in stereo. Nicholai saw the raised hook claws of the
one in front of him, the snapping, dripping mandibles,
the gleaming insectile eyes, and knew the other was
only a second behind its sibling, preparing to jump
even as the first landed.
Nicholai opened up, the rattle of automatic fire lost
beneath the twin howls, the rounds finding their mark
on the first, its scream changing as it shuddered to a
stop barely three meters away - and, still firing,
Nicholai crouched and fell backwards, rolling up on his
right side in a single fluid motion. The second charging
animal was less than two meters away when he hit it,
bloody divots appearing in its shining black exoskeleton
like flowers in explosive bloom. Like the first, it
twitched and spasmed to a halt before collapsing, its
shrill cry becoming a gurgle, becoming silence.
Nicholai got to his feet, unnerved, not sure of the
species - either brain sucker or the more amphibious
deimos, another multi-legged breed. He'd expected the
viciousness and the attack method, but hadn't understood
how fast they were.
If I'd been even a second later. . .
No time to consider it, he was in a hurry. He edged
forward, quickly stepping over the dark, oozing sprawl
of limbs, breaking into a run as soon as he was past.
With each step away from the dead creatures he felt
his composure returning, felt a flush of accomplishment
warm him from the inside out. They were fast, but
he was faster - and with such monsters loose in the
city, he wouldn't have to worry about Mikhail or Carlos
or anyone escaping what they were due. If he didn't get
to enjoy the pleasure himself, he could revel in the
knowledge that his comrades would certainly fall prey
to any one of a dozen horrors, their inadequate reflexes
failing them, their lack of skills ensuring their doom.
Nicholai tightened his grip on the M16, a rush of elation
adding spring to each agile step. Raccoon was no
place for the weak. He had nothing to fear.
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