and then he heard it, and that tiny, despairing
whisper was obliterated by the sound.
The sound of heavy machinery stirring to life,
somewhere up ahead. Not far ahead.
Train!
Faster, legs distant, rubbery, lungs working, heart
pounding - one way or another, it was almost over.
THIRTY-TWO
CLAIRE BURST INTO THE TRAIN, HOLDING A
giant rifle and with one leg covered in blood, barely
pausing to hit the controls to the door before running
for the engineer's booth. Sherry knew that they were
in trouble, that it was going to be close, so she didn't waste time asking questions; she followed, relieved
beyond measure that Claire was okay but keeping it to
herself.
Okay, she's okay and we're going now...
A small, tinny version of the intercom voice and
alarms blared out of the tiny room's control board.
"There are two minutes until detonation."
Claire had dropped the oddly shaped rifle and was
hitting buttons, throwing switches, her attention fixed
on the console. A giant mechanical hum suddenly
enveloped them, a growing, whining rumble that
made Claire grit her teeth; Sherry couldn't tell if it
was a smile, but she smiled as she felt the train
lurch and start to move, taking them away from the
platform.
Claire turned, saw Sherry standing behind her, and
tried to smile. Claire rested one hand on Sherry's
shoulder, but didn't say anything - so Sherry didn't
either, waiting to see what would happen.
The train started to go faster, sliding past dimly lit
halls and platforms, the tunnel in front of them dark
and empty. Sherry let the warmth of Claire's hand
remind her that they were friends, that whatever
happened, Claire was her friend...
... and she saw a man, a policeman, stumble into
view ahead on the left, and then the train was gliding
past him, his eyes wide and searching and desperate
in his dirty face.
"Claire!"
"I see him..."
Claire turned and ran out of the booth, her foot-
steps clattering through the metal train car, sprinting
to the door. She hit the control and the door slid open,
the booming, grinding sounds of the subway billowing
into the closed space.
"Leon!" she screamed. "Hurry!"
She jerked back suddenly, a wall sliding by, and
spun around looking as desperate as the man -
- Leon - had. After another second she turned back
and closed the door.
"Did he make it?" Sherry asked, realizing that Claire couldn't possibly know, even as the words
came out of her mouth.
Claire came to her and put an arm around her, as
the train kept going faster and her face knotted with
worry...
... and the voice in the intercom told them they had
one minute left...
... and the door in the back of the car opened. In
stumbled Leon, his arm wrapped with a shredded,
stained bandage, his hair matted with dark, dried goo, his eyes bright and blue in the mask of dirt.
"Full throttle!" he shouted; Claire nodded, and Leon blew out a heavy breath. He staggered toward
them, the train shifting back and forth, speeding now,
rocketing through the tunnel. He put his arm around
Claire, and Claire hugged him tightly.
"Ada?" Claire whispered. "Ann ... the scientist?" Leon shook his head, and Sherry saw that he might
cry. "No. I didn't - no."
". . . thirty seconds until detonation. Twenty-
nine . . . twenty-eight. . ."
The woman's voice kept counting down, the num-
bers seeming to come twice as fast as they should, and
Sherry buried her face in Claire's warm side, thinking
about her mom. Mom and Dad. She hoped that
they'd gotten out, that they were safe somewhere,
but they're probably not. They're probably dead.
Sherry could hear Claire's heart pounding, and she
hugged her friend tighter, thinking that she would
think about it later.
". . . five. Four. Three. Two. One. Sequence com-
plete. Detonation."
For a second, there was no sound at all. The alarms
had finally stopped, and the clattering movement of
the racing train was all there was to hear
and then there was an explosion, a muffled
sound, a shoomp sound that kept going, growing,
becoming huge.
Sherry closed her eyes and the train rocked sud-
denly, horribly, and they were all thrown to the metal
floor as bright, burning light flickered through the
window, as the sounds of a car crash blasted all
around them, heavy thumps raining over the roof
and the train kept going. It kept going, and the
light went away, and they weren't dead.
The blinding flash dissipated, faded, and Leon felt
the tension leaking out of his body. He rolled onto his
side, and saw Claire sitting up, reaching for the hand
of the young girl next to her.
"Okay?" Claire asked the girl, and the child nod- ded. Both of them turned to him, their faces express-
ing what he felt - shock, exhaustion, disbelief, hope.
"Leon Kennedy, this is Sherry Birkin," Claire said, saying the words carefully, the slightest accent on
"Birkin." He got the message even without the inten- sity of her gaze, nodding his understanding before
smiling at the girl.
"Sherry, this is Leon," Claire continued. "I met him when I had just gotten to Raccoon."
Sherry returned his smile, a weary, too-adult smile
that seemed out of place; she was too young to smile like that.
One more rotten deed to lay at Umbrella's door,
innocence stolen from a child. . .
For a few seconds, they just sat there on the floor,
staring at one another, smiles fading all around. Leon
hardly dared to hope that it was really over, that they
were leaving the terror behind. Again, he saw his
feelings mirrored in front of him, in Sherry's worried
brow and Claire's tired gray eyes...
... and when they heard the distant squeal of metal
coming from somewhere at the back of the train, he
didn't see any surprise. A rending, tearing screech
followed by a heavy, somehow stealthy thump and
then nothing.
Should've known it isn't over...
"Zombie?" Sherry whispered, the word almost lost in the gently clattering sound of the speeding train.
"I don't know, sweetie," Claire said softly, and for the first time, Leon noticed that her left leg was ripped
to shit, blood oozing from several ragged scratches;
he'd been too amazed at his, at their narrow escape to
see it before.
"How about I go take a look?" Leon said, taking his cue from Claire, keeping his voice mild and even; no
point in scaring Sherry any worse. He stood up,
nodding toward Claire's leg.
"Sherry, why don't you stay here with Claire, keep
an eye on that leg? I'll see if I can find some bandages
while I'm checking things out; don't let her move,
okay?"
Sherry nodded, her small face intent with purpose
that again was too old for her years. "Got it."
"I'll be back in a minute," he said, and turned
toward the back of the swaying train, praying that it
was nothing at all and knowing better, as he reached
for the Remington and went to see.
Leon opened the door, the sounds of the rolling
train amplified for a second before it closed behind
him. Claire couldn't see him enter the next car from
her position on the floor, and wished she'd been in
shape to go with him; if there was something else on
the train, Sherry wasn't safe, none of them were -
- don't think like that, it's nothing. It's over -
- like it was over with Mr. X?
"What should I do?" Sherry asked, pulling Claire away from the disheartening thoughts. "Direct pres- sure, right?"
Claire nodded. "Yeah, except we're both pretty grimy, and I think it's starting to clot. Let's see if Leon
comes back with something clean ..."
She trailed off, her thoughts going back to Mr. X. There was something nagging at her but she was a
little dizzy from the blood she'd lost...
... G-Virus. It wanted the G-Virus before.
Why had Mr. X come to the subway platform? Why
had it been trying to get inside the train, unless...
Claire struggled to get up, fighting her swimming
head and the throbbing pain in her leg.
"Hey, don't move," Sherry said, a look of deep distress in her eyes. "Leon said to stay still!"
She might have been able to overcome her physical
problems, but seeing Sherry on the edge of panic was
too much; if there was some G-Virus creature on
board, if that was why Mr. X had come, Leon would
have to face it alone. She couldn't leave Sherry. If
Leon didn't come back, she'd have to figure out how
to detach their train car, or stop the train so they
could get off before the creature could get to them...
Claire shut the thoughts off, forcing a smile for
Sherry. "Yes ma'am. I just wanted to make sure he got through the second car..."
She could see the relief sweep across Sherry's face.
"Oh. Well, forget it, I'm taking care of you now, and I
say you stay still."
Claire nodded absently, hoping that she was wrong,
hoping that Leon would be back any second -
- Bam! Bam! Bam!
The thunder of the Remington was loud and clear.
Sherry grabbed her hand as two more shots blasted
the hope from Claire's fuzzy mind, as the train sped
through the dark.
The second car was clear, the same wide-open space
that Leon had entered the train by, all dusty steel and
not much else. Whoever had designed the escape
vehicle had obviously figured the Umbrella employ-
ees would have to be packed in like sardines.
Just us three, though - and our stowaway...
There was nothing to see, but Leon moved slowly
nonetheless, carefully scanning the shadowy corners
and steeling himself for whatever was in the last car.
Whatever it was, it couldn't be as bad as the thing that
had jumped him in the cargo room, the Birkin-thing,
if that was what it was. The thought that the creature
had anything at all to do with Claire's young friend
was deeply unsettling, even obscene. A monster and a
madwoman, both destroyed, both parents of the little
girl. . .
He reached the back of the dim and rocking train
car and peered through the door, pushing all other
thoughts aside as he tried to make out anything at all
in the last car. Darkness, and nothing else.
Hell.
Maybe there wasn't anything to see, but he had to
look. He felt his heart start to pound fresh adrenaline
through his body, felt his weariness fall away. Noth-
ing, it was surely nothing, but it felt bad. Wrong.
Last thing, very last thing. . .
He took a deep breath and opened the door, step-
ping into the loud, whipping breeze of the outside,
holding on to the rail. The rattle of the train drowned
out the thumping of his heart as he moved to the last
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