EIGHTEEN
JILL EASED INTO THE STEAMING, HISSING
room, a thick smell of grease in the heated air. It was
some kind of a boiler room, and a big one; heavy,
thrumming machinery filled the large chamber, surrounded
by winding catwalks. Massive turbines spun
and pounded, generating power in a steady whine as
hidden ducts spat out steam at short intervals.
She moved slowly into the poorly lit chamber,
peering down one of the railed walkways into the
fluctuating shadows cast by the towering generators.
From where she was, she could see that the place was
a labyrinth of paths, twining around the giant blocks
of noisy machinery.
The source of the estate's power. That explains how
they managed to keep it a secret for so long, they had
their own little city out here, totally autonomous,
probably had their food shipped in, too.
She turned down the narrow walk to her right,
watching uneasily for any more of the strange, pale
zombies that she'd seen in the corridors of B3. The
path seemed clear, but with the movement and noise
created by the turbines. . .
Something ripped at her left shoulder, a sudden,
violent slash that tore open her vest and scraped the
skin beneath.
Jill spun and fired, the roar of the shotgun drowning
out the hissing machines. The blast hit metal, pellets
ricocheting into the empty walk. There was nothing
behind her.
Where?
A lunging, blade-like claw sliced the air in front of
her face, swooping down from above.
She stumbled back, staring up at the steel mesh of
the ceiling and saw a dark shape skitter out of the
shadows, hooking its way across the grate incredibly
fast, curving claws at its hands and feet. She caught a
glimpse of thick spines around its mutant, flattened
face and then it turned and ran into the thrumming
shadows of the power room.
There was a door at the end of the walk and Jill
sprinted toward it, heart racing, the pounding whine
of the generators thundering in her ears.
She was five feet from the door when she saw the
moving shadow position itself in front of her. She
raised the shotgun and leaned back -
- more of them!
There were two of the creatures overhead, squat,
terrible things with vicious, curving hooks instead of
hands. One of them dropped down suddenly, hanging
by clawed feet to swipe at her with its bladed arm.
Jill fired and the creature screeched, the blast
hitting it in the chest. It fell from the ceiling with a
clatter, thick blood oozing out of the ragged wound.
She turned back toward the entrance and ran,
hearing the patter of claws against the mesh overhead.
Another of the aberrant monkey-like things swung
down in front of her, and Jill ducked, afraid to stop
running. The thing's strange arm whistled past her
ear, missing her head by less than an inch.
The metal doors were in front of her. Jill crashed
into them, slapping one handle down and stumbling
back into the cold stillness of the corridor. The door
closed on the furious, shrill cry of one of the monsters,
rising high over the sounds of the working
machines.
She sagged against the door, gasping
and saw Barry Burton standing midway down
the chilled, silent hall. He hurried toward her, an
expression of deep worry on his rugged, bearded face.
"Jill! Are you alright?"
She pushed away from the door, surprised. "God,
Barry, where have you been? I thought you'd gotten
lost in the tunnels."
Barry nodded grimly. "I did. And I ran into some
trouble trying to get out."
She saw the splatters of blood on his clothing, the
rips and tears in his shirt, and realized that he must
have come across more of those walking green nightmares.
He looked like he'd been through a war.
Speaking of. . .
Jill touched her shoulder, her ringers coming away
bloody. It was painful but shallow; she'd survive.
"Barry, we've got to get out of here. I found some
papers upstairs, proof of what's been going on. Enrico
was right, Umbrella's behind all of this and one of the
S.T.A.R.S. knew about it. It's too dangerous to keep
looking around, we should get those files and head
back to the mansion, wait for the RPD."
"But I think I found the main lab," Barry said.
"Downstairs, there's an elevator at the end of the hall.
There are computers and stuff. We can get into their
files, really nail 'em."
He didn't seem excited by the find, but Jill barely
noticed. With the information they could get from
Umbrella's database: names, dates, research material.
. .
We can find out everything, present the investigators
with the whole, messy package. . .
Jill nodded, grinning. "Lead the way."
The tunnels had been a cold, miserable maze, but
the map had led them through quickly. Rebecca and
Chris had reached the first basement level, both of
them shivering and wet - and not a little freaked out
by the dead creatures they'd passed along the way.
The Umbrella scientists had been disgustingly creative
in their approach to making monsters.
Chris rattled the door that supposedly led to the
heliport, but it was solidly locked, an emergency sign
next to it implying that it could only be opened by an
alarm system. He'd hoped to send Rebecca out with
the radio while he searched for the others.
He looked down the narrow stairwell and sighed,
turning to her. "I want you to stay here. If you stand
by the elevator, you should be able to pick up Brad's
signal from outside. Tell him where we are and what
happened - and if I'm not back in twenty minutes,
get back to the courtyard and wait there until help
comes."
Flustered, Rebecca shook her head. "But I want to
go with you! I can take care of myself, and if you find
the lab, you'll need me to tell you what you're looking
at."
"No. For all we know, Wesker already killed the
other S.T.A.R.S. and is looking to finish the job. If
we're the last ones, we can't risk both of us getting
ambushed. Somebody has to survive and tell people
about Umbrella. I'm sorry, but it's the only way."
He smiled at her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"And I know you can take care of yourself. This isn't
about your competence, okay? Twenty minutes. I just
have to see if anyone else made it."
Rebecca opened her mouth as if to protest further
and then closed it, nodding slowly. "Okay, I'll stay.
Twenty minutes."
Chris turned and started down the ladder, hoping
he could keep his promise to come back. The captain
had successfully deceived them all, acting the part of
concerned leader for weeks while the people in Raccoon
City had died and all along he'd known why.
The man was a sociopath.
It seemed that Umbrella had created more than one
kind of monster. And it was time to find out how
much damage he'd done.
Barry couldn't bring himself to look at Jill as they
took the elevator down to B4. Wesker would be
waiting for them at the bottom, and Jill would find
out that he had been helping the captain all along.
He'd killed three more of the violent, springing
creatures down in the tunnels before making it to the
lab only to run into Wesker, who had insisted that
he lure Jill down to B4 and assist him in locking her
up. The smiling bastard had reminded Barry of his
family's situation and promised again that it was the
last thing he'd have to do, that after Jill was safely
locked away he'd call his people off -
- except he's said that every time. Find the crests
and you're free. Help me in the tunnels, you're free.
Betray your friend. . .
"Barry, are you okay?"
He turned to her as the elevator stopped, looking
miserably into her concerned, thoughtful eyes.
"I've been worried about you ever since we got to
the mansion," she said, laying a hand across his arm.
"I even thought - well, never mind what I thought. Is
something wrong?"
He pulled the gate open and raised the mesh outer
door, an excuse to look away. "I ... yeah, something's
wrong," he said quietly. "But now's not the time.
Let's just get this over with."
Jill frowned but nodded, still looking concerned.
"Okay. When this is over, we can talk."
You won't want to talk to me when this is over.
Barry stepped out into the short hallway and Jill
followed, their boots clanking across a steel grate. The
hall turned to the left just ahead and Barry slowed
down on the pretense of checking his weapon, letting
Jill get in front of him.
They turned the corner and Jill froze, staring into
the muzzle of Wesker's raised Beretta. He grinned at
them, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, his smile smug
and leering.
"Hello, Jill. Nice of you to drop by," he said
smoothly. "Nice work, Barry. Take her weapons."
She turned her startled gaze to him as he quickly
plucked the shotgun from her hands, then reached
around to unholster her Beretta, his face burning.
"Now get back up to Bl and wait for me by the exit.
I'll be up in a few minutes."
Barry stared at him. "But you said you just wanted
to lock her up."
Wesker shook his head. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not
going to hurt her, I promise. Now get going."
Jill looked at him, confusion and fear and anger
playing across her face. "Barry?"
"I'm sorry, Jill."
He turned and walked around the corner, feeling
defeated and ashamed - not to mention terrified for
Jill. Wesker had promised, but Wesker's word meant
nothing. He'd probably kill her as soon as he heard
the elevator doors close, but what if I'm not in the elevator?
Maybe I can still do something to keep her alive. . . .
Barry hurried to the lift and opened the gates,
then slammed them closed and pushed the operation
switch, sending it back to B3 without a passenger.
Moving silently, he edged back toward the corner,
listening.
". . . can't say I'm all that surprised," Jill was
saying. "But how did you get Barry to help you?"
Wesker laughed. "Ol' Barry's got some trouble at
home. I told him that Umbrella has a team watching
his house, waiting to kill his precious family. He was
only too happy to help."
Barry clenched his fists, his jaw tight.
"You're a bastard, you know that?" Jill said.
"Maybe. But I'm going to be a rich bastard when all
this is over. Umbrella is paying me a lot of money to
clean up their little problem, and to get rid of a few of
you goddamn snooping S.T.A.R.S. in the process."
"Why would Umbrella want to destroy the
S.T.A.R.S.?" Jill asked.
"Oh, not all of them. They've got big plans for some
of us, at least those of us that want to make a profit.
It's you sniveling do-gooders that they don't want,
the red-white-and-blue, apple pie, all that happy
bullshit. The way Redfield's been running around,
mouthing off about conspiracies, you think Umbrella
didn't notice? It has to stop, here. This whole place
was rigged to blow up just in case of an accident
and the Tyrant virus escaping qualifies. Once you're
all dead and this facility's destroyed, no one will be
able to get to the truth."
Son-of-a-bitch was going to kill all of us.
"But enough about Umbrella. I had you brought
down here for a little experiment of my own. I want to
see how our most agile team member stands up
against the miracle of modern science. If you'll just
step through that door."
Barry flattened himself against the wall as Wesker
stepped back, part of his shoulder coming into view.
He put his hand on his Colt and drew it out slowly.
"I can't believe that you're doing this," Jill said.
"Selling out to protect a bunch of unethical corporate
blackmailers."
"Blackmailers? Oh, you mean Barry. Umbrella
wouldn't bother with blackmail. They can afford to
buy people just as easily. I made all that up to get him
on board."
Barry slammed the butt of his Colt into Wesker's
skull as hard as he could, dropping him like a ton of
bricks
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